


Persuasion

by Averia



Category: Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Dubious Morality, Dysfunctional Relationships, Friendship, M/M, Post-Season/Series 02, Prostitution, References to Canon, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2018-08-20 02:42:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 130,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8233243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Averia/pseuds/Averia
Summary: “We don’t want the same thing. You want Kid Flash. I want Nightwing.” As long as it serves the mission Nightwing will do nearly anything. If it gets personal all bets are off.He never overbid the Light with money anyway.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The Five Year Gap is the Canon Divergence. 
> 
> A few transformed elements from the DCU Comics are used in this, especially characters and their power levels. (Still can’t get over the fact that Cheshire and Deathstroke were weaker than Sports Master.)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Kaldur and he had known how much could go wrong when they had planned the undercover mission. It was why they had intended to send Artemis as support as soon as possible. No matter on which side her father stood he would never kill his daughter. If nothing else it would have bought them time. They had been blindsided by the easy solution, no one had thought about the one code of honour villains loved to fulfil.

“Why does Richard Grayson call for Slade Wilson?”

Dick watched the man through the reflection of the huge window and with a last glance down at the streets he turned to the mercenary in his hotel suite.

When Kaldur had told him Deathstroke was the new security chief Dick had nearly stopped the whole mission. They could not afford Slade finding out. With all their problems, Slade was the last thing they needed to top the list but there was no way he could overbid the Light. This time he would have to pay the full price. 

He could reveal information but they were losing Mount Justice already, it would make them too vulnerable. Even if Slade gave him leverage, made him do a handful of odd jobs that did not completely go against his nature, Dick could not spend time away from Gotham. With Batman gone the crime was so high that it nearly overwhelmed Barbara, Tim and him daily. 

He could not endanger Kaldur and Artemis because of a stupid mistake. They had it difficult enough with enemies all around them, fighting against their friends and trying to be what they were not, what they had sworn to never be.

 “Drink?” Dick asked, even though he knew the answer. He had not shared his worry when Kaldur had remained unconcerned by the change. 

“Tell me why I am here, Grayson.”

Dick smirked and the good eye narrowed ever so slightly while he seized the man in front of him up. The designer clothes fit his body; made him look as if he could command the room with the twitch of a finger but hid the deadly muscles underneath. If not for the white hair no one would have ever guessed how old he was.  

“I heard about your new employment and I have an offer to make,” he spoke bluntly, knowing it would only hinder him if he tried to avoid the subject. Slade hummed and Dick went on.

“I’m not asking for betrayal, just for a small favour.”

“I don’t do favours.”

“I’ll pay you, ” Dick said offhandedly and by now Slade looked at him in open amusement, tilting his head to the side.

“How do you plan to overbid the Light?”

How? Indeed. He had no clue if he could convince Slade that this would be worth it. All he could hope for was that he had learned enough from Bruce and Selina over the years. But what had Selina told him when he had asked how she got Bruce to fall apart so easily? _No one is immune to charm._ Once Dinah had told him he could raise a pulse in a department store mannequin, had to count for something.

So he only stepped closer with a slow smile pulling on his lips and held his hand out, palm up.

“Give me your hands.”

Slade only raised an eyebrow, real emotions hidden behind an as always carefully constructed mask.

“Come on, humour me,” he said, a small laugh catching in his throat and he wiggled his fingers, “I could not defeat you in a fight even with an advantage.”

_Always target their ego, make it personal._

“What are you planning?” Slade asked but eased out of the defensive posture and Dick locked their hands together without losing eye contact or his smile. 

It was uncomfortably easy to see him as more than a reluctant ally, as more than one of his enemies. Slade had always blurred the lines.

“You know me so well that you forget how much I know you too” Dick spoke softly, licking his lips and placing the warm hands on his hips. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest at the blunt action. It was not uncomfortable per se but this was not him either. He swallowed, mentally doing the same to his nerves. “I know you want me.”

Dick captured the nearly unnoticeable widening of his eye and the tensing of muscle when Slade kept a smile off his face.

“I can give you what you want,” he promised, stepping closer until he could feel the heat of his body without touching him and guided the hands over his ass, squeezing. His face was burning and he was thankful for his tanned skin. Slade kept watching calmly but kept the grip when Dick let his fingertips brush over the back of the strong hands.  

“If you let me,” he whispered into his ear, breathing against his skin. He was growing hot under his suit and wished he had taken off his jacket before. It was a strange mixture of embarrassment and arousal that nearly made him shudder.

“Try harder,” Slade said, amusement going under in a deep rumble and Dick hummed, trying to hide the hitch in his throat when Slade kneaded his ass, “If I wanted sex, I would go to a sex worker.”

Dick chuckled, guiding the hands back to his hips and up, up, up. It was a lie, Slade would never let a stranger touch him but…

“This isn’t about sex,” he purred, clasping the hands around his throat with a sharp smile, “This is about control.”

His stomach dropped when he saw the flicker of lust and something more... dangerous. Heat pooled between his legs. Perhaps Wally had always been right to call him a dog. He certainly acted like a bitch.

“What do you say?” he asked quietly as if speaking too loud would destroy everything he was working so hard for. The skin under his ear tingled when Slade caressed the spot and he tilted into the touch without intention. His mouth grew dry, not daring to turn his gaze away from Slade.

“I knew you were desperate the moment Wintergreen said your name but now I can’t even imagine what trouble you are in.”

Dick kept silent, a thumb tracing his cheekbone when Slade studied his face. Nothing betrayed that the last words had been a lie but he knew anyway.

“How often?” Slade asked after agonisingly slow seconds. One hand stayed at his throat, a finger pulling him forward by the loop of his pants. Dick did not fight against the closeness, kept plastered to his front as if he belonged there. The answering hardness the only proof that Slade was not only acting interested in a deal. 

He pursed his lips and finally broke eye contact to find a reasonable decision. It was not as if he had ever done this before or even thought he would ever do this.  

“Once a month as long as,” he bit his lip in unease, gazing back at him, “the operation lasts.”

“Only fixed amount,” Slade responded dryly and Dick felt some of the pressure disappear at the familiar humour.

He grinned, shrugging a shoulder. “Fine by me. Four. Not more, not less.”

The Slade hummed. “Your body, your decision.”

Slade could bet that Dick would take him by his word the second they spoke about the details. Thankfully the mercenary’s words were his bond.

“Yes or no, Slade?”

The demanding tone earned him an amused chuckle.

“Tell me what you want me to do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wikia says the dog comment is YJ Canon. (Never liked it but it worked here)
> 
> Dinah’s comment is 100% Comic Canon (Birds of Prey: Old Friends, New Enemies, by Chuck Dixon).


	2. Contract

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the nice comments! :)
> 
> This may be a bit exposition heavy but I wanted to clarify their history. Also not so steamy sex, yet.

Lamps flickered, dogs howled and laughter echoed through the streets. Blüdhaven by night seemed closer to any other city than it ever did by day but it had simply learned to hide its danger in the shadows. The few people still out at this hour kept their heads low and hurried home, ignorant to the man watching them.

Slade stood on the edge of the roof. The pool of light broke against the metal plates of his armour, his trademark colours shining. In any other place he would keep himself hidden but the BCPD would not even glance in his direction. Despite Nightwing’s progress, the city was still polluted by crime and the police as corrupt as ever.

The vigilante did not pose a threat either. This was their agreed meeting place after all. Any other time he would have already taken residence in the apartment, scrutinizing the place in the dark for exits and cameras. Tonight, though, he took the luxury to pretend. The second his life could be in danger he had no respect for privacy but Grayson was more anxious to keep this meeting hidden than he himself. Ultimately the young hero had more to lose, one of the reasons why he was here in the first place.

Slade shifted under the streetlamp. The moon was finally peaking through the endless mass of gray over the city.

Slade hated lateness. Not necessarily because he was an impatient man but his schedule was impossibly tight and he had wanted to use the final night, not rush it. Proper payment was important after all.

The moon had disappeared again by the time Slade caught sight of a black silhouette drawing nearer. No one quite matched the easy with which Nightwing flew over the rooftops. Not even Catwoman seemed so carefree. It was evident how much his parents still guided each and every step the young man took even though his time with them had been incredibly short. 

Grayson said nothing when he stopped in front of him, never quite easing out of his landing position. If Deathstroke would have been someone who could simply be ignored the hero would have done it instead the acrobat signed him to follow with a stiff gesture.

They entered the house through one of the windows after Nightwing deactivated the alarm as well as a few traps. Slade recognized some of the security measures as the ones he had taught the hero, seeing them put to use pleased him more than he would ever admit. 

He could still remember the first time they had met when Batman had trained a Robin that liked to butcher the English language. All the talent hidden behind the wide smile wasted on frivolous actions. He had never expected to meet him on free terms years later.

The young hero had surprised him like he tended to surprise everyone. After multiple meetings on the streets and on opposing sides Grayson had contacted him to learn. Slade had thought he would be cornered by the brooding Gotham hero soon after but the fall out with Batman had been bigger. The months of training had gone by without even a whisper from the man. Even now Slade did not know how much Bruce Wayne knew about those months if he knew about them at all. 

The resolve the young hero had shown then was still reflected in every bold move Grayson made as Nightwing, though Slade had to admit that paying with his body was the boldest yet. He had suspected that something was wrong when Tigeress had appeared out of nowhere but to know was another thing. It had been amusing to know how blind the Light really was. 

It had been clear what the hero was willing to give before he had spoken a word, but, of all the things Nightwing would offer, he had never thought it would be sexual favours. Slade still wondered if the boy really knew what he was doing.

It had been refreshing to see the hero flustered, more nervous than he had ever been in a fight. Slade would have taken the payment then and there if the hero had offered. 

Bruce Wayne or even his love interests had seemingly thought the young man enough to make men - and in all likelihood women - fantasize.

But Slade had not come so far because he bowed to his own libido. As much as he liked the boy, his position as the Light’s enforcer was his insurance in a world run by villains and vigilantes alike. He had no intention to lose the security again as long as Rose was still a child. The goals of the Light were not ultimately his despite that and - while he would rather face the soon to be enemy of the superheroes as an employee of the Light - he was sure Vandal Savage was dooming the world he still wanted to live in. Darkseid would take what he wanted, not what the Light was willing to give.

Stepping into the dark house he took the mask from his face, leaving his weapons on a desk and donning the heavy outer armour.

“I need something to eat” Grayson stated dismissively, disappearing into the kitchen. The mask was still adorning his face, only the Escrima had left their owner. The lie was so blatant that Slade would not have let it slide even if Grayson had been punctual.

He pulled him close, one arm circling the narrow waist. Fingers curled around his arm in defence but the hero did not try to push him away. It was a reflex, nothing more.

“Are you really trying to avoid this?” Slade asked lowly, “After you so willingly spread your legs the times before?”

The fingers tensed around his arm, back straightening against his front but then Grayson pulled his hands away and pressed two fingers against the side of his neck, deactivating the safety measures of his costume. 

“Good boy,” he mumbled against his neck, knowing Grayson was beyond irritated by the pet name.

He slowly pulled the zipper down, exposing tense muscles and scarred skin. Grayson let out a shaky breath when he began caressing down his back and the muscles tensed once more before Grayson turned fully around, facing him with white lenses.

Slade pushed him back against the kitchen counter, his fingers stroking through the dark hair to grab a fist full, pulling his head back. Grayson clawed into his back in annoyance like expected but also with an underlying desperation that nearly made him halt.

He knew something was wrong but he had not expected him to be so deeply affected.

The strong thighs locking around his waist kept him from reprimanding the younger about the conditions they had chosen for the contract. Slade knew Grayson could kill with them and it automatically made them into one of the most attractive parts of the vigilante.

The first time he had thought about the young man as desirable was after Grayson had nearly snapped his neck nearly a year ago. To tell the truth it had shocked him a little bit when he had heard the crack. Grayson did not have the ability to kill him, not only because of the ridiculous moral code but he enjoyed that the boy tried.

Half of the skin-tight costume was crumbled between his hands when he heard the sob muffled against his shoulder, could feel the quiver of lips against his skin. If he concentrated he could even smell the salt of tears. With a sigh he grabbed the wrists and forced the exposed upper body against the counter, ignoring the snarled protests when his fingers slipped under the sleek black mask to push it off.

The glare could not hide the tears shimmering in the blue eyes and the red lips were pressed so hard together that they were white instead. Slade gripped the tense jaw when the vigilante tried to look away.

He had heard about Alaska, knew a speedster had disappeared. Now he knew which one.

"I am here for the payment and nothing else, Grayson,” he stated firmly and the vigilante squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, furrowed brow smoothing and a long exhale escaping him. No tear fell. 

The desperation he could ignore. He had nothing against his payment clinging to him but he was not here to make the kid feel better.

“Ten minutes. Don’t let me have come for nothing.”

He stepped back. If Grayson had wanted to buy time then he would give him a chance. Dick bit his lip and looked away, legs closing hesitantly.

Slade turned. It would be easy to take him apart, encouraging the ingrained self-loathing until Dick would come to him with every problem. Instead he disappeared into the small bedroom. Adeline would disagree but he still had a bit morality left on good days for certain people.

He also was not, despite popular belief, aroused by crying though he would not deny that he was the have them, leave them kind of guy. 

He closed the door of the bedroom. 

They had always met in hotels prior to this, much safer and a definite working place. Grayson had changed the location just a few hours prior. Slade glanced out the window, his ingrained vigilance getting the better of him but the night was still, no bats on the horizon.  

He smiled, gaze turning back to the bed. Everyone knew Nightwing was a fiercely loyal creature and Slade was certain the boy would be reminded every day that he had betrayed his friends by the pure willingness to invite a murderer into his bed.  

He sat down against the headboard and picked up one of the old books. It was written in a language even he could not speak. The aged and used binding betrayed the circus origin.  

A thinner but even more tattered book caught his attention and it was surprisingly a children’s tale about an elephant. It was self-made. Grayson had told about Zitka when he had met the boy in civil for the first time. Joey had visited for the weekend with Grayson unsurely shuffling behind him. They had not expected to see each other. Addie had by then given Joey her maiden name and Slade had not known his son would bring a friend. He still wondered if she had only let him see his son in the hopes of Grayson calling the cavalry. 

He stayed silent when the young man stepped into the room. The vigilante looked at the book in his hands with a quirk of his eyebrow before the blue eyes met him head on again. His eyes were red-rimmed and the eyelashes even more pronounced, wetness holding them together.

Slade glanced over to the clock in the corner. Two minutes left.

In half an hour he had to leave. Otherwise his target would be on his way to Ireland and his whole time plan destroyed.   

Grayson did not wait for the last minutes to subside, taking a step forward and straddling his hips with new intent. Warm breath brushed against his skin when the younger leaned forward, a hand playing with the shorter hair on his nape while the blue gaze burned through him.

“You need to help me, Slade” Dick whispered when he gave him his full attention.

“Oh?”

His palms brushed up the strong thighs. He wondered what the vigilante was planning now.

“I need to bring Kid Flash back.”

Grayson opened his pants smoothly, one hand still playing with his hair.

“Let the League or your team handle it.”

The hero smiled and pressed him further down into the cushions. He let it happen. They both knew who was in control. 

“Luthor has a plan. Until they find out what he is doing and until they can act on it,” Grayson licked his lips while his hand disappeared between their bodies, “Months will pass. I need someone who is already involved.”

A palm pressed against the growing bulge in his pants. Slade nearly shuddered.   

“You have not even given me my first payment,” he reminded, not able to drown out the rumble in his voice when the vigilante grabbed him through his underwear. 

“Believe me, you won’t say no” Grayson breathed out, looking up under his eyelashes and Slade could appreciate the smile on his lips. The wicked one, the one Batman did not know existed. The hand slowly emerging between his legs might have helped too.

“I’ll be yours for one year.” the young man whispered into his ear, breath hitching when he ground their hips together and hovering over him like a hunter over its prey. “ _Think about it, Slade._ I will fight beside you, I will train Rose and you can fuck me whenever you want. Maybe I’ll get a taste for killing.”

Slade hummed, pulling the black and blue costume further down until only his legs were still covered by the black fabric. The sound of a racing heart pulsed in his ear and he laid his hand over the tanned chest to feel the same rhythm. It made his fingertips prickle. Grayson kept a steady gaze on him, chest rising a bit faster with every passing moment.

Everything depended on his answer and he was not about to say no, this was exactly why he had taken hold of the boy when he had been able to even though he had not expected all of this to fall into his lap in every sense of the word.  

“You’re selling yourself short” Slade commented with a chuckle, trailing his fingertips down the exposed body to rest his hand on his waist.   

The real pleasure of this arrangement was not the way Dick Grayson was all tightness and heat. The hero was taking a risk that could destroy every relationship he cherished.  

“Kiss me.”

Dick stared at him, opened his mouth and closed it again. It took a second longer before he spoke, voice high.

“What?”

Slade could not help being amused and he brushed a thumb over the soft lips, not oblivious to the way Dick twitched as if to recoil.

“If you can’t even overstep such an unimportant rule, how can you stay silent while I kill? Prove that you won’t stand in my way.”

Dick hesitated, lips pressing tight together but then he leaned forward. Blue eyes flickered up before they became lidded leaving a dry kiss on his lips. Slade nearly laughed at the attempt, closing a hand around his throat when he tried to pull away.

“Try again.”

Dick glared at him but did as told. The hands tightened on his shoulders as if Dick wanted to crush his bones. The blue eyes closed and lips parted against his. It was fervent despite the reluctance, a share of breath. Dick ghosted his lips over his before they pressed together again. The contact grew longer, a tongue touching his lips. 

A surprised sound escaped Dick’s throat when Slade deepened the kiss, tongue circling his while he held him close with a hand in raven hair. Dick pressed up against him, one hand slipping from his shoulder to grab a fistful of his shirt. A grin pulled at his lips and he pulled back with a bite into spit slick lips.

Dick swallowed heavily, breath faster than before and blue eyes wide. He pulled him closer again, parting his lips with his thumb before licking into his mouth. The thighs tensed around his waist and Dick pulled away with a glare, teeth cracking.

“Turn around” he commanded with a squeeze to his ass “You know I end one contract before the next. And we have only twenty-two minutes left.”

The blue eyes narrowed even more – if it was because of the ambiguous answer, the timeframe or both, Slade did not know - but he moved, pulling the lube and the condom out of the drawer.

Slade took it from his hands, opening the cap while Dick stripped. The tanned skin smooth and hairless like he had ordered. He had never understood why some men groomed their beard but let anything else grow like weed, though this was still a double standard of his. To be honest he had thought Dick would be reluctant about shaving everything but there was not even one red line on his skin that betrayed a too rushed cut. He doubted Dick had waxed but who really knew with the kid.

His gaze dragged over the curved spine while he slicked his fingers up. It never ceased to amaze him how readily Grayson got on all fours without even turning a shade pink.

Despite all the muscle hidden underneath the meaty globes, his ass was soft. It was nearly obscenely round, beckoning to grip and massage the flesh until it was red and hot to the touch but that would have to wait for some other time.

He grasped the round flesh roughly, pulling the cheeks apart to rub over the puckered entrance with a slicked finger. Grayson relaxed a bit more, legs parting wider and head tilting forward. He pressed into him, slowly but steadily moving his middle finger deeper, easy enough, even though the tightness was remarkable. His cock throbbed between his fingers when he thought about how it would feel to enter him.

Grayson was already rolling his shoulders. It did not matter that this was the fourth time. The sensation would always remain unfamiliar. Slade was certain the younger had never bottomed for anyone else. It made all of this better than it already was.   

He joined another finger, stretching the slicked hole wider. Grayson was pressing his head further down into the pillow and the muscles of his back rippled. 

Some of the scars crisscrossing over his back were light, others nearly invisible from shallow cuts or from years back. The skin cells of a nine-year-old regenerate much faster after all. A larger one was still shimmering violet, standing out sharply. 

Slade had never left a fight without slicing into the boy at least once, knew which scars had been left by him.

He ripped open the condom, pulling it over with one hand while he crooked his fingers before joining a third. It would hurt a bit with the rushed prep but Slade did not particularly care. He was here to satisfy his need and time was short.

“Next time you decide to be late, think about this,” he stated, grasping the narrow hips. Grayson growled but the irritation was lost in a gasp when he pushed slowly into the reluctant heat.

His fingers trailed over his tailbone up his back and Grayson relaxed around the tip of his cock, legs spreading further apart and breath calming. Slade pressed him down into the cushions with his hand on the strong shoulder, feeling him follow the forward motion and he sheeted himself fully into the tightness with a snap of his hips. Grayson squeezed two fistfuls of the blanket, body arching as if to avoid the pain but Slade's grip on shoulder and waist remained unyielding. The groan leaving the hero’s lips sounded far from painful and for an exhilarating moment every muscle in the lithe body tightened around him.

Slade licked his lips, trying to control his breathing and the want flooding him. Tight did not quite cover the meaning. He wanted to slam into him and let lose, hear him scream and whimper but that was not quite in the confines of the contract.    

He forced himself to thrust slowly, easing the tension in his muscles a bit more with every move of his hips. His eye closed to get lost in the simple bodily pleasure. His fingertips would leave bruises on the shoulder and he ground down into the heat, feeling a groan building in his throat that sounded more like a growl.

Grayson moaned when he brushed his prostate with a longer thrust. His back arched in a tight bow.

Slade chuckled, grasping the hard cock in his free hand while the other held the young male in place, thumb stroking over his neck. Grayson shuddered. Face still pressed into the pillow. 

He set a faster pace, feeling him involuntarily clench around the length with every other stroke over the sensitive head. Slade changed his grip the second Grayson grew slick with pre-cum, curling his fingers back around the narrow waist, forcing him to meet his thrusts. 

His orgasm was building fast and he grabbed onto the headboard instead of the shoulder, not wanting to accidently bruise the bone. He came with a grunt to the sound of skin slapping against skin and held onto him until the aftershocks ebbed away. 

Grayson shuddered as he pulled out, muffling a groan in his pillow. Slade held back a chuckle and pried the condom off.

Grayson kept breathing into the pillow, heated body slowly sinking down onto the bed. His glistening hole clenching around nothing. If he had the time, he would have used the situation to show him how much power he had really given away. Instead he kept silent, watching him calm his breathing, the undeniable erection pressing against his stomach was ignored as if it was a teenage inconvenience. 

That would have to change.

“I will accept the new contract under one final condition.”

Grayson blinked up at him, breath still going harsher. His bottom lip was swollen from keeping quiet but the blue eyes were as sharp as ever. 

“You will take exactly one life. A life I order you to take.”


	3. Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the feedback! :)
> 
> I'm really glad the automatic update worked and I am surprised how many followers the side-blog has garnered. 
> 
> Next chapter will be up later today.

Dick stared up at the ceiling, sweat cooling his body. His shoulder throbbed in dull pain and the unfamiliar feeling of emptiness was making him restless. Odd satisfaction was drumming through his body despite the distress he was feeling. A wince escaped him when he gnawed at his bruised bottom lip.

He had accepted the last condition, the affirmation escaping his lips before he had comprehended the words. His mind too preoccupied with the throbbing arousal he had felt, his own release catching him off guard when it had only needed two thrusts into a tight fist after Slade had disappeared. His mind too focused on the death of his best friend to think rationally.

Slade would use it without concern. It would be the final stab in his back and Dick had no one to blame but himself. But saying no had not been an option. Slade would not have changed the condition no matter what he would have done and he could not give up on Wally without even trying.

Why should this become a dilemma anyway? He would find another solution when the time came. If everything else failed, well, Dick could still redirect the weapon at himself.  

He finally rolled off the bed, glancing down into his bin, knowing he would have to dispose of the condom before any birds or bats could find it. He picked the slick material up to at least throw it away in the secure area. Pulverizing it was probably still the safest option. He had done the same with the others.

The truth was: He should at least feel ashamed of his actions, he knew that. Instead of the all familiar self-hate, he could only concentrate on his still thrumming skin. He licked his lips, could only feel a prickle when he brought the kiss to the forefront of his mind. It meant nothing, not to him. It did not change anything.

“You’re so fucked,” he mumbled to himself, stepping under the shower.  

All of the non-powered knew the human body to a T, knew their enemies weaknesses and their own. The first time acting out the payment had not felt like any other first time he had ever had. They had known where to touch. Slade had been patient, careful even but had still overpowered him easily. Dick had willingly let himself be consumed after they had made ground rules. A _no_ does not end the contract, was still the only rule Dick really cared about.      

He was still doomed. Bruce would never forgive him and Dick knew his mentor would find out someday. There was no way around it but if it had stopped today, so soon after the League had come back, he could have at least been able to keep it hidden for years.    

Shaking his head, he focused on his actual plans. They were after all his way to justify the mess he had gotten himself into. He was not just trying to get Wally back. This was about Rose as well.

He had fallen in love with the young girl the first time they had met during the months he had trained with her father. Later Joey had told him that Adeline was still fighting for custody even though Rose and she were unrelated. It was a strange situation but in this case justice should have looked the other way. The soldier turned businesswoman was in many ways more stable and she had not gotten sole custody of her sons because Slade was such a good father.

He lay down on his couch with sugary cereal, not daring to turn on the television because the disappearance of Kid Flash was still broadcasted as if it had happened today. Dick sighed, rubbing his eyes. The funeral of Wally West had been horrible. Artemis and he had lied the whole day to every non-hero they knew.

He had nearly vomited when he had seen the fake body of his best friend in a casket. It was then that he had grabbed for his phone to tell Slade he could not do this today but Artemis had followed him when he had disappeared into a quiet corner. She had told him about Luthor.

Dick sighed, letting his head hang over the armrest. Captain Cold had let it slide to Barry that Luthor was experimenting with the possibility to bring Kid Flash back. Barry had been skeptical, was keeping it from the League. Only the family knew. They had no idea how to get further information. Luthor had learned from Cadmus to keep his plans locked up even tighter. He would not have asked Slade for help if it was easy.

He flipped one of the dry Trix into his mouth. His infatuation with the food had only taken on form once he had realized it was the one thing Wally would not eat up before he could even reach for it.

He had just started workout after finally sleeping for a few hours when his phone screen flashed up with an unknown number, the area code betraying its Irish origin. Dick swept his thumb over the screen in disbelieve.

“You were faster than I expected,” he said after a beat, knowing it could only be Slade.

“I wasn’t going to wait so you could change your mind” Slade mused “The flight was long enough to investigate. Luthor knows about the preach or at least he upped his security again. The only one who gets close to his personal projects is Mercy.”

“Then how do you know it’s true?”

“With the Light scattered he cannot allow losing the security I provide. I don’t have access to the projects but I can see the protocols. I know which devices he wants to use and how to get them which leaves us without the data.”

Dick gnawed at his lip just to wince again. He should try to change that habit.

“You know the whereabouts of the devices for sure?”

“This is business. I’m not going to lie to you about it.”

Dick frowned but knew it was the truth.

“Is there a chance Luthor will never let you close enough to the data?”

“Unlikely.”

“But there is a chance he won’t?” Dick pressed. If he was gambling with his morality, he needed to know it would actually be worth it.

“If we are strictly speaking about let, then yes.”

Dick kept silent, frowning.

“If you can’t fulfill all your terms I won’t fulfill all of mine.”

Slade chuckled a low sound that made fear crawl up his spine.

“I wasn’t planning to give you _that_ command until we were finished either way but don’t worry, kid. I always full fill my contracts,” he promised.

Dick grimaced, whispering a great when the call disconnected but he should have known that his mistake could not be erased so easily. His screen flashed again when he wanted to resume his training. This time it was a message, telling him where and when to meet Slade to begin the payment. He would have liked nothing more but to call back and make his own arrangements but he knew neither number would get him Slade on the phone.

Stepping into his Nightwing costume a few hours later was not easy, knowing he would not wear it for a long time and that he would lie to so many people. Again. But he had chosen this plan, there was no turning back.

He still had a lot to do if he wanted to leave the country without making his family suspicious. It would be enough time to sort some things out. He had to use the year with Slade to his advantages. Perhaps they could even destroy the Light completely now that the organization was weakened.

Dick shook his head. The family was more important for now. Thankfully Tim had wanted to visit tonight. Since he had left the team right after Alaska it was an open secret that his younger brother tried to watch out for him. It would be hard to lie to him. The young Robin deserved better. He had wanted to stay around, fearing he would lose him the second he looked away like they had Jason.

He had barely left his apartment when two shadows landed in front of him and he held back a sigh. Batgirl had come too, which would make everything worse.

“Both of you? I’m fine. _Really,_ ” he stressed and Barbara waved his response away.

“You are not the center of the universe. I’m here because of more important matters than you,” she said grinning and he breathed out in played shock, “Deathstroke passed Airport Security in Gotham. He was last seen on the highway to Blüdhaven.”

“ _Oh_ , so Red Riding Hood is here to protect me from the Big Bad Wolf?”

Barbara snorted, slapped his arm before they sailed off into the night.

If only she knew.

The night went by without any big incidents, the streets of Blüdhaven only filled with the usual criminals they could handle easily. They had not found a trace of Deathstroke but when he hugged Tim and said goodbye to Barbara, he nearly expected them to know anyway.

Days later he walked into the new headquarter. Even though the plan had been made and he had started to prepare, dropping hints that he needed more distance, his stomach still clenched when he finally stood inside the satellite. He had already warned Barbara, had told her he would be leaving the continent and it did not surprise him to see her waiting in the hallway, a frown on her lips. She caught his wrist before he could walk past her into the common room.

He had never been able to ignore her, why had he even tried?

“Do you really have to leave?” she asked. Her green eyes had an unusual soft look to them. He could not hold her gaze for long, shame burning like acid in his stomach. Lately there had been something between them he did not dare to describe, a slow realization that they could be more. He hoped she would never find out what he had done, what he would do.

“I need a change of scenery. I miss him and every place reminds me of another memory.”

Barbara squeezed his hand, a sad smile forming on her lips.

“I get it. Just write or call sometimes,” she told him, “We want to know that you are alright.”

Dick chuckled, knowing he would not be able to promise anything.

“I’ll try my best.”

It was not what Barbara wanted to hear but she let go of his wrist and they finally entered the common room.

Artemis was the first one to understand. Dick wondered how she could live here without being reminded of Wally every second, though he knew she had bought another apartment instead of living in the house they had shared. It was clear she would not sit idle while he was gone and would take his return as her deadline to get more information. Artemis had always worked better under pressure.

Kaldur was against it. Dick knew that his friend still wanted him around as an emergency leader. They had bonded over their secret plan to infiltrate the Light, had worked months on it without sleeping. He had thought about telling him but there was just no certainty that Kaldur would understand. Not this time.

It was hard to lie to them and he knew Connor would not forgive him a second time. After all, the clone had barely made his peace with him since the infiltration. Dick got that, he really did.  

He would betray all of them but he had to do something. They had failed Roy. He would not fail another friend, even though he would never forgive himself if Tim was gone when he came back.  

He was meeting Slade in Switzerland only a day after. The man had finished his latest contract here. Dick did not want to know what it had entailed.  

“On time today, how refreshing,” Slade commented when Dick stepped towards him.  

“I know you don’t like waiting,” Dick responded. He had not wanted to irritate him just yet when surviving a year would be hard enough.

“You did not seem to care last time.”  

He had not planned for him to see the effect Wally’s disappearance had left on him. But he had hardly slept the three days before their meet up, the funeral had been a clean rip through his heart and Artemis had been so hopeful even though they had nothing. And Bruce, Bruce had been furious when he had heard what they had done. It had overwhelmed him and he had wanted to forget.  If Dick was honest with himself - which he rarely ever was by this point -, he had latched onto Slade in hope of self-destruction. Surely Slade would use the situation to degrade him.

Days afterward it scared him. He had so easily turned to Slade, knew it had been because Bruce had not talked to him. He could not survive without a net to catch him.

“I care now” he stated firmly, brushing his sudden panic to the side.  

“Good.”

Dick could hear the smile, the satisfaction, and the threat. For a second it was hard to breathe and he remained silent while Slade gazed at him, the world too loud and too silent around him. His feet felt heavy when he took a step towards him. He forced a smile onto his lips.  

“Well then, shall we begin?”

Slade chuckled, “Follow me.”

One of the first things he had learned was not to trust villains even when they were on his side, now he was following one of them blindly through the night. Bruce would have lectured him weeks long for such a stupid move but he had no other choice and he was not here to leave.

They arrived at an apartment on the borders of the town in no time. It was bigger than Dick had expected and the reason was quickly found. Slade needed at least three rooms for weapons and equipment, a bit more than necessary for a simple safe-house.

Dick frowned at the black costume. It was good enough, similar to his own just without the bluebird on the front and a few slings for guns instead of Escrima sticks. Even the mask, which would be covering more of his face than he was used to, was not a problem even if the red lenses were an aesthetic detail he would not have missed. The less people could see of his face the better. The only thing bothering him was the red blinking collar.

“Really, Slade?”

He tried to sound angry instead of worried. The older male smiled and Dick narrowed his eyes at him.

“You wore it nicely before and it will only benefit both of us in the long run.”

His team had been forced to wear inhibitor collars more than once in the past few years and they had learned to hate them. While they were mostly used to limit inhuman powers, they were still a device to control humans as well. The electric shocks were not to be underestimated but Dick would be able to deal with them if he had to. What really worried him were the explosives. He did not see how this was to be beneficial to him in any way. It was just a means to control him better. He should have seen this coming a mile ahead.

“You want to go back to your life as a hero,” Slade stated when he saw him hesitate, tugging the collar of the wall. Dick watched him like a cornered animal and tried not to flinch when Slade stopped in front of him. A hand grasped his chin to tilt his head back. He tensed when the collar snapped around his neck, breath catching in his throat when the strong material restricted his breathing.

“If they find out, you can tell them I forced you,” Slade told him calmly while he adjusted the collar, fingertips brushing against what little skin was still exposed. The fabric pulled even tighter for a moment and Dick pressed his lips together, enduring.  

How could he have been so foolish?

“How considerate of you to give me such an easy way out,” Dick bit back the moment he was able to speak again. Slade hummed with a smile on his lips and stepped away. It felt strange to swallow, his Adam’s apple brushing against the fabric. For now it was a tickling, he hoped it would not start to rub his skin raw.

“Change, we still have to work,” Slade commanded, leaning against the wall with his shoulder, arms crossing. Dick bit back the anger. He had hoped this would be his chance to let some gadgets slip past the mercenary’s attention.

Sighing he peeled the costume of his body after laying all of his weapons to the side. He would miss his Escrima but using them was out of the question. Slade did not look away once and Dick was relieved that their prior arrangement had at least one good outcome: He was used to stripping in front of him.

He pressed the locator chip into the inside of his palm. His heartbeat staying calm and even. It would be uncomfortable to slip it into his underwear of all placed but it would still be a small victory.

His wrist was caught, clothed fingers pressing into his skin. He instinctively tensed, arching away but Slade just stepped closer until they were pressed chest to back.

“You have two options,” Slade said dangerously, voice close to his ear, “One, I take the chip forcefully and search you _thoroughly_ for other objects.”

Dick pressed his lips together when a hand pushed under his briefs squeezing his ass harshly. A finger slipped between his cheeks and he tried to step away, heart thundering in his chest. Slade easily pulled him back, an arm pressing over his chest while his wrist remained caught in a tight grip. The sex had been gentle, this would not be.

“Two, you give me the chip. I lock it away without knowing its content and we forget you dared to betray me on your first of 365 days.”

Dick uncurled his fingers. His eyes squeezed shut when a kiss was placed behind his ear, gloved fingertips dancing over his palm.  

“Good boy.”


	4. In Motion

They were perched on top of a building. The Light, or rather Queen Bee if his deductions were correct, was interested in a piece of land where once stood a village named Zambesi. He dimly remembered reading about the place in one of Batman’s files. A magical artifact had been found there by a heroine not long ago.

Slade would not tell him specific plans Queen Bee had for the place and while it bothered him, he knew that messing with missions just yet was not an option. Hopefully Slade would loosen his surveillance in the months to come. For now he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He had to show his readiness to play by the rules.  

“It’s not a killing mission. You should be able to do it alone,” Slade stated, “Your team was supposed to be covert ops after all.”

Dick glanced at him and a reluctant grin slid onto his lips when he could hear the underlying insult in his words.

“We were pretty bad at it.”

They slunk back from view when a truck rolled by.

“Might have been the fault of a certain clone” Slade responded, “Has he none of Luthor’s intellect?”

“He is not stupid,” said Dick firmly, used to the quips their enemies were making at the expense of Connor and looked at the electronic map, “But I personally prefer to think his intellect comes from Superman.”

Slade chuckled, pulling the lid off of the air vent.

“That would certainly be a nicer fit.”

Dick looked down for a moment with a scowl on his face, then back at the map for one last time before sliding down, a few centimeters at a time. The communicator in his ear crackled to life when he hit the bottom with a nearly inaudible thumb and he started crawling forward. This had been easy fun during his time as Robin, now he wished he was still as small. At least the new costume felt comfortable.

“You have ten minutes.” 

Dick opened his mouth to protest before remembering that he only had an earpiece and no microphone.

“9.15 now. Don’t disappoint me, Grayson.”

Dick gritted his teeth, seething.  

Finding his way through the air shaft was no problem but when he could finally look into the right room he froze. No one was supposed to be in the office. The file Slade had let him look through just a few minutes earlier said the two employees always left for lunch.

Waiting was hardly compatible with his time limit, though they would clearly no leave on their own. The spark of irritation he felt made him want to jump down and take them out but revealing himself was no option. The file had clearly stated upmost discreetness.

He slid his pat out, hoping he would be able to link to any device in the room. His neck already prickled. Time would not stop for him.

The firewall was thankfully a piece of cake for someone with his skill set and he wrote an e-mail from the address of their chairman as quick as he could. Thankfully he had asked Slade for the company details while they had made their way here.

He internally sighed in relieve when the two workers left angrily, thinking their boss had contacted them because of an urgent money matter. Problems with their payment had been the only thing he could come up with that would make them move during their break.

He slipped down into the room and stood in front of the next problem. There were files everywhere, just not at their place. He opened selected drawers quickly, looking through the stacks of paper until he found the document where he had meant to take it, the photocopier. He had barely three minutes left when the scanner began and he could already hear voices in front of the office when the paper was barely out. He was grabbing it when the door handle turned and jumped up into the vent, only just avoiding a loud clank when he pushed the lid in its place. His pulse had quickened slightly though it had less to do with the men and more to do with Slade. He typed in a command to erase the copy history while he crawled forward but it was hard to be silent while doing so. It was a relief when he could use the hook to get out easy and quick.

“Not bad,” commented Slade and grabbed him by the arm when he was halfway out, pulling him up, “but you are still too late.”

Dick had no time to register the words before a surge of electricity run through his body. It was over as fast as it came, leaving a sizzling feeling behind, the noise of pain and surprise stuck in his throat.

“Just a short example,” said Slade one finger hooked under the collar and Dick stumbled forward still taken by surprise “You should know what you are getting into.”

Dick swallowed heavily, the motion uncomfortable while Slade kept him close but he was able to step away without resistance. A still breathless huff left his lips.                

“Are you trying to make me leave? That’s against the contract.”

Slade stayed silent, still as ever. Dick had not expected to hear nothing, his head tilted in curiosity but Slade only turned away, leaving him to follow. The mission would only be over once the informant had received the files.

He held himself in the background not wanting to be questioned or deliberately seen. All he had been able to do was take a glance at the file. It was only a list of names but he had no clue who those people were, buyers of the land or people that had actually lived there? Was Queen Bee searching for the magical artifact that was gone or for others that might still be there? Or was she after something else entirely?

“Don’t waste your time, kid. I won’t let you sabotage the missions.”

Dick looked up into the steely eye and shrugged. He was sure he would be able to do something in the long run to help his friends.

“My team is still out there doing its job. They don’t need me to stop the problem at the source.”

It was not entirely true, not with the light splitting after its defeat so the members could work on their own various plans. Slade did not say anything to the statement but Dick still felt as if the man was smiling behind the mask. 

They made their way back to the apartment and Dick was relieved. He had hoped the first mission would be short, just a test.    

Slade watched him again when he took off his costume but Dick had learned his lesson, not that there was anything in his possession worth hiding.

With the costume gone, the collar felt heavy around his neck and Slade made no move to remove it.  

“We are staying here tonight?” Dick asked instead of giving away how uncomfortable the heavy material around his neck made him.

“Yes,” Slade said and pushed away from the wall “Enjoy your single bed. It will be the last night without me by your side.”

Dick nearly let his pants fall again while he stared after him, not expecting such an announcement. 

He stood unmoving for a while, the door long since closed and then sunk down to the floor, head in his hands. He took a deep breath, eyes searching for possible cameras. This had been a stupid idea from the start. 

Why had he done this? Why did he always have to go the other way to accomplish something?

Dick shook his head, pressing the back of his thumbs between his brows. Forcing his thoughts to stop before they could enter a vicious cycle. 

All he needed to do was go forward. He had a plan. He was prepared because Bruce had taught him to be no matter what. Slade would not stop him, not change him.

He was left alone for the night and he avoided him until they left in the early morning, thinking about anything but his words.

“Dick!” Rose screamed when he opened the door and jumped into his arms, foot aiming for his chest. He redirected her leg, grasped around it and tugged her closer for a second to readjust his grip, twirling her around in the next moment with a grin on his face as if it had been a simple dance move.  

“Hey, Warrior Princess,” he greeted amused and surprised. That he might see her so soon, had not even crossed his mind, “New move?”

Rose grinned at him, nodding wildly. The missing tooth made her look far too innocent.  

“Learned it from Addie!”

So Adeline was still seeing her. He had expected Slade was keeping her away from his former wife and ultimately from any other influence.  

His contact to Rose had been one-sided over the years. Slade kept her hidden from the outside world and he had believed Rose would think he had forgotten her after they had only met two times but the girl had seemingly received his messages or at least a version of it.

“That’s great. Adeline can surely teach you even more.”

“Yep!” the young girl grinned, “She actually showed me a few new techniques.”

“A match it is?”, he asked and Rose only beamed more. He shortly ruffled through her black locks, the motion coming easily to him, “You can show me all your new moves later, alright? Let me just settle in first.”

He had nothing personal left but he wanted to know what would await him before he fell for a sense of security just by being around her.

“You are staying?” she asked letting out a high squeal. Dick just had to draw her into a hug again. She was just too precious and he still knew how she had clung to him all those years ago, asking him to visit again with doe eyes or never leaving.  

“For a year,” he said winking and Rose grinned, giving him an unexpected kiss on the cheek before she disappeared into the living room like a whirlwind. There was a crash soon afterward and he knew there was no way he could get around at least one match.

Slade did not seem as happy about their interaction and while Dick felt a slight spark of satisfaction when he saw the dark glare it also meant nothing too good for his future interactions with the girl.

“She missed you,” Slade stated calmly despite his body language and the words held a certain weight Dick could not fully grasp.

“Everyone misses me,” he responded smugly though it sounded a bit too serious. Slade kept looking at him for a moment longer, nearly seemed to hide a smile but Dick was never sure about those emotions. He knew his killing intent and anger far better.

Dick followed him up the stairs, glancing into the living room where Rose sat in front of the TV, drumming with energy. Wintergreen was nowhere to be seen but Slade would not have left her here without supervision. His gaze flittered over the used furniture, the pictures of wildlife and war and family. 

This was home. 

This was the reason for the collar around his neck.  

Dick captured the most important facets of the room the moment he stepped in, his mind analyzing escape routes and possible weapon hideouts without him even trying.

The bed was king-sized and if he was still living in the manor, sleeping in his canopy then it would probably seem smaller to him now. He was glad to be used to his minimalistic lifestyle. 

He doubted Slade would suddenly start craving daily intercourse or turn out to be a cuddle monster but it still felt more comfortable to have a few centimeters between them. Sleeping near your enemy was never a good idea, sleeping near your enemy who could melt your brain cells with sex an even worse one.  

“Will I ever have a minute alone?” he whispered more out of frustration than for Slade to hear but he had known he would get an answer anyway.

“You had a whole night alone, Dick. If you did not use it it’s your own fault,” the ex-soldier reminded him dryly, looking into the room as if he was seeing it for the first time as well.

Dick bit his lips, not saying a word about the two postcards he had sent even though he was pretty sure Slade knew about them. Nothing got past the man, especially not when someone had to get in or out of one of his safe houses.  

“And now I won’t have anything anymore?” he stated, keeping his gaze on the bed while he tilted his head and crossed his arms. Not even the clothes on his body belonged to him.

“You could outsmart me,” Slade proposed and this time the amusement was rather clear in his voice, “You can’t expect me to trust you.”

“No, I can’t,” Dick agreed. There was some vague level of trust between them, otherwise he would not be here but that trust barely entailed the letting him live part if he dared to mess up. “You will also never _learn_ to trust me. This will stay how it is for a year.”

“We’ll see,” said Slade though it was obvious he did not care either way, “You should simply accept that from now on what you are able to do is what I allow you to do.”

He did not respond to the statement verbally but his skin seemed to tighten, anxiety rising. His gaze finally found it’s way to Slade’s face. The stakes were high and he had known but knowing had not prepared him for this.

“Why am I here, Slade?”

The question forced itself out of his throat, had lain on his tongue the second he had realized where he was. Slade’s lips twitched in amusement and Dick took an instinctual step back when Slade turned to him though by then it was far too late. A hand cupped his chin. The warm firm touch searing against his skin, in a way it had not since the first time. His breath felt heavy in his lungs.  

“You are here because you wanted to be.”

He bit the inside of his lip, his teeth barring when he tightened his jaw.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s what you asked” Slade replied, the fingers trailed down his throat, slipping from his skin once they touched the collar. Dick clenched his hand into a fist before he could raise it to rub the tingle away.

Rose was already waiting, sitting expectantly on the couch with the television turned off. She was still a child full of excitement and Dick feared the day Slade would take that away from her.

“Why do you have the collar?” Rose asked frowning when he sat down beside her on the big couch, wanting to ask what she had in mind for her training.

Dick smiled at her, the half truth leaving his lips easily.

“I’m undercover” he whispered, winking at her.

It was a fun day with Rose showing him a few moves. Years had passed since he had last seen her and she had drastically improved. One day she would make one hell of a fighter and by then he had hopefully gotten her out of her father’s grasp. Slade really did not need this advantage.

They fell into the grass together and rolled over the green, Dick deciding to tickle her instead of finishing the fight on a serious note. The girl let out a squeal, trying to get away and then viciously attacking him too. They both broke out into laughter.

By the end both of them lay on the grass breathlessly and their clothes had gotten dirty. Neither of them cared.

“You’re mean,” she said, tone caught between a serious grumble and an exaggerated whine, “You should have pulled through with that last kick.”

Dick was used to the behavior from Jason when he had been alive, Tim had acted like this too and even Wally to some extent.

“I thought you had enough serious training with Adeline while you were there. You showed me how good you are,” he said, smiling reassuringly at her, “You will get your serious training, I promise but I know how easily protégés forget that they are still children.”

The light blue eyes were scrutinizing him and for a long time she said nothing.

“I played a lot with Joey,” she offered and after another moment, “Did you forget to be a child too?”

Dick remained silent, for a moment unable to answer perhaps even unwilling. Some would say his childhood had been nonexistent once he had become Robin but Dick would never see it like that. Wally, Roy, and Kaldur had been there, Barbara too even if she had not known then. And later there had been the team. But had any of them behaved like real children?

“I guess,” he said slowly and brought his eyes up to the sky, “So, what did you and Joey do?”

“We went to a climbing forest and we dubbed reality TV every night while eating lots of chocolate”, she scrunched up her nose, looking up and around, “but don’t tell Daddy that. I think I weigh a few pounds more now.”  

He laughed, poking her into the side. “Nah, all muscle.”

Rose grinned and let herself fall back onto the lane. She looked content and they both enjoyed the warm sun a bit longer.

“Do you want to stay sometimes? With Adeline I mean?” he whispered lowly when her eyes had closed and the smile had stayed. She shook her head and he kept silent, mulling over the time frame she had probably stayed there and how tight her connection to Adeline had become. He did not want to ask too much about the woman, knew it would offend the girl, so he went for a different try.

“How come I never see you when I visit Joey?”

“Daddy’s rules,” she said, a pout forming on her lips, “It’s mean that he gets to see you but I don’t.”

He snorted, “Didn’t think you would even remember me.”

Her eyes widened in indignation, finger poking against his collarbone.

“How could I forget you? I had the summer of my life!”

Dick could not help but laugh again, this time more unrestrained.

“Nice of you to think that way” he mused but did not ask further when Rose closed her eyes again with a smile on her lips. If she had still received the cards, then she had probably followed his appearances on television.

Dick greeted Wintergreen when they entered the house again. He had only met the older man once, the same summer he had first met Rose but had spoken to him on multiple occasions for business reasons. The man was not just an old friend of Slade but had trained both Adeline and him when they had joined the army. He was the only person Slade really trusted.  

The late evening passed quickly with Wintergreen cooking for them and disappearing into the study multiple times. Slade had disappeared after their talk and Dick was glad to evade him for a bit longer. He had never hated Slade the way he should but he had never - not once - forgotten how dangerous Slade really was.

He dreaded the walk up to their shared room - to their shared bed - but there was no point in trying to avoid it. Dick relaxed a bit when he opened the door to an empty room. The closeness they kept during sex was different than this. Neither of them had ever stayed. 

Dick had never thought Slade would suggest this, had thought having to come to his bidding simply to pleasure him would be much more degrading but he could tell why Slade would decide otherwise.

The room felt suffocating even without the man inside and he only slowly made his way towards the bed. Dick sat down to look out of the window with a sigh and then lay down on the far corner, hands tugged under his cheek. His body was tense, his trained vigilance screaming danger at him, telling him to sleep anywhere but here. He concentrated on the tension in his body to set it free, feeling as if he was unwinding every single muscle. His eyes remained open for a while before he decided that seeing the empty bedside was too much and he turned to the window, at least able to pretend he would stay alone.

He woke when Slade entered even though the man had barely made a sound. His gaze stayed attached to the moonlight spilling through the cracks of the jalousie even though everything in him screamed to look back. But, despite the teachings to never turn your back on your enemy, Dick was positive it would be better if he did not react even when the mattress dipped under the added weight. The light was dim enough to find sleep again and the rustle of paper was even calming his nerves until the next words left him wide awake.

“I know you talked to Rose about Adeline. Don’t do anything stupid.”


	5. Display of Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the lovely comments! Hope you enjoy. The "real" next chapter will be up tomorrow like always. :)

After the first night Grayson was jittery and tired; a fair sign that he had woken up multiple times. Slade was quite satisfied with the outcome. Sleep deprivation had always been a good method to keep people in line but he knew it would have light to no consequences on him. The vigilantes of Gotham were used to only a few hours of sleep after all, functioning automatic when they were forced to do this for a few days.

“We have work to do,” he told him. Grayson did not complain, nodding with his gaze down. _Docile_ was all Slade could think but knew the young man would soon grow defensive again.

Rose looked at them with curiosity. He had not yet told her why Grayson was here nor was he sure how much he would let them interact. The boy was obviously aware of the ongoing custody battle and Slade knew the vigilante was not on his side. Adeline was keeping his children away from him for years now. She would not succeed taking Rose away. Hell would freeze over before Slade let that happen. He would have to keep an eye on their relationship for now.  

“A runaway. Capture, not kill,” he explained. There was no point in rushing things. Grayson would walk over enough dead bodies during this year. It was better to leave him in his comfort zone for as long as possible.

The young man did not ask further questions right away, perhaps to weight his words but overall he looked worn out. He had known the ingrained alertness would keep him up all night but the younger eyed the food warily as well, forcing himself to eat. Batman trained his protégés to keep constant vigilance to protect them but it was just as easily used against them.

Not that Slade had gotten his normal amount of sleep either. It was strange to hear another heartbeat after so long and he certainly did not make a habit of inviting vigilantes into his bed. But it was the easiest way to keep an eye on Grayson and Wintergreen had only watched in curiosity and disbelieve instead of threatening to murder him for taking sex as payment. Since Rose had joined them Wintergreen was trying to be a bit more moral and normal. 

It took Grayson nearly their entire ride to the airport before he finally opened his mouth.

“And who wants that runaway to return?” he asked, head tilted to look through the window at the private jet of their client. Slade had taken care they would get one. The blinking collar around the young male’s throat would be too hard to hide or explain to airport security or even normal travellers and going out of the country as Deathstroke instead of anyone else was important. He had used the subtle route too often in the last few weeks. His enemies would start searching for his hideout and he did not plan for them to find Rose and Wintergreen.

“Her father,” he offered, knowing Grayson wanted more information but the younger would be able to make his own impression soon enough.

They walked out of the limousine. The two bodyguards flanking the father tensed more the nearer they came. Grayson and he could have defeated them easily no matter how much they prepared for an attack. It was obvious that they were nervous about the whole deal, had probably even suggested to secure the area more tightly or walk away from the contract.

The politician smiled at him and he took off the mask, stopping two steps in front of the man. Grayson remained slightly behind him, knowing how to play the silent shadow. The authority of his mentor had left traces in his behaviour even if he had been a role breaker often enough.  

“Mr Wilson! I am very happy we could decide on the right sum for my daughter’s life,” the man said in a booming voice, seemingly proud of the accomplishment.  

“I am too, Mr Kowalski.”

The first time he had met the politician because of his daughter’s life he had thought the man would never be able to overbid the money his government enemies were about to pay for her death but some families had stocked money everywhere it seemed. If the money would really help him in the end, was another question.

“You said she was still in contact with you?” he asked when they walked into the jet. He could see the glances Grayson was receiving, everyone in their business knew what such a collar could do.

“Yes but I am unable to attain her on my own. Currently she has gone underground in Hungary. Last we talked she said a group of other hackers had taken her in.”

Sweet little Daniela had worked for the government and had found evidence that not every higher up was as nice and good as they seemed to the public. She had found even more dirt when she had actively searched for it but with every new discovery, her enemies had come nearer too. Through connections she had been able to get out of the country but when she had exposed the details about her research on the internet no amount of skill had been able to protect her.

“You have to find and save her. Before she went underground she told me to identify her rescuers with this,” said Kowalski, showing a rather expensive ring, “It belonged to her maternal grandmother and is rather unique.”

Slade could see why. The alien technology inside of the seemingly normal stone was rather extraordinary and he nodded, giving the ring to Grayson who secured it in one of his pockets. But he saw a slight hesitation, the flex of his wrist and knew Grayson had noticed something unusual too.

The politician chuckled.

“My mother in law was a curiosity in herself,” he said and grinned at his own joke. Kowalski was not of alien heritage but he did not appear to be concerned about his mother-in-law, which was rather unusual but welcome. It was easy to work with people like him. They always thought they had figured out how the universe worked.

The flight was filled with silence but he knew not only the bodyguards were interested in the black-clad figure beside him. He did not humour his normal contracts with answers to questions he deemed unnecessary but there was still information he had not yet gathered from the man and it was a long flight to Europe.

“Ask,” he invited, only slowly looking away from the clouds to the politician. The surprise was evident on Kowalski’s face and he coughed lightly but then his gaze settled back on Grayson.

“Who is he? I have never heard even a whisper about a partner.”

“He is called Renegade,” Slade said, watching Grayson for any sign of emotion, “A pet project of mine.”

Kowalski frowned at the same time Grayson tensed ever so slightly because of his words.

“Pet Project?”

“He belonged to another soldier project without serum. A failure, thrown away. But sometimes failures can exceed expectations.”

Kowalski looked interested now, probably wanting to find out if he had also been another U.S. government experiment. Those secret projects were not helping them make any friends and had never convinced critics.

“And if he does not remain to be of use?”

“I kill him, ” he explained offhandedly. 

Grayson grew rigid, probably wondering how much those words reflected onto his real situation. The answer was easy and Grayson would get it, everything came down to Rose after all.

“Harsh,” Kowalski commented. Slade knew he was not fond of killing.

The politician smiled at Grayson as if he had suddenly seen a scared little boy who was searching for his parents or had found a puppy abandoned on the sidewalk, “What is your opinion on all this?”

Grayson did not answer right away, looking at him for confirmation to speak. Kowalski raised a concerned eyebrow at this and Slade smiled.

“He won’t be able to answer. They slid his throat open, let him bleed out” Slade lied easily and hooked a finger under the collar. Grayson did not react, sitting on his seat like a marble statue. A short tug was all it took to get his heartbeat into overdrive. “He did not get this just for show.”

Kowalski raised an eyebrow, face scrunching up.

“His brain is damaged, did not get air soon enough. He can sometimes be a bit,” he pulled lightly at the collar until Dick looked at him, and chuckled, “unruly.”

Kowalski tried to keep his façade up but the slight twist to his mouth betrayed his disgust. So their good man did actually have bad traits. Grayson pressed his lips harder together but Slade did not know if it was because of the lie or the reaction. He did not care either.

“He still functions well enough for missions,” he commented, rubbing at the slightly irritated skin of his little prisoner. Kowalski looked as if a bug was crawling down his throat.

The last hours were silent with the champagne gradually lessening thanks to their client. They left the plane with a forced goodbye from Kowalski, who watched after them warily as if he expected to be attacked by a brainless zombie.

The rural hotel they would stay in was not far from the small private landing area. He was often here when he had business in Hungary, the old widow managing it had more spunk than anyone would guess and she liked the money he left, not caring where he had gotten it.

“I knew you would not want me to speak. But brain damage?” Grayson asked once they were alone, anger swinging in his words while he set up the technology, the laptop hit the desk rather harshly, “I always suspected telling something like that to clients was a no-go.”

“Kowalski was too clean, there had to be something he does not like and I had not yet confronted him with a disabled person.”

Grayson narrowed his eyes. “And that’s important why?”

“It’s important because his daughter had a traumatic brain injury a few years back, lost her finer sense of motor ability, had delusions,” Slade responded and Grayson frowned, “Or at least that’s what her medical documents say.”

Grayson kept silent for a while, watching him set up the antenna.

“You wanted to find out if she really had a mental illness or if it was a side effect of suppressing her alien physiology.”

Slade nodded.

“Basically, though I believe her behaviour comes from the mix of not necessarily compatible DNA.”

He stepped behind him, pushing the chair Grayson was sitting on towards the computer. It did not get lost to him that his new “partner” was unconsciously bending his back away from the hand as if skin contact would burn him.

“Open the mail from the D.E.O.” he ordered and it did not take long for Grayson to read the content.

“They want her.”

“Yes and they will get her,” he explained, “They pay double.”

Grayson stared up at him with narrowed eyes.

“You are just betraying him? I thought contracts were absolute?”

“He tried to lie to me,” Slade said and shrugged casually, Grayson was right about the contracts after all, “I tell my clients about new offers, that’s how you keep the price high. He told me she was disabled and without any alien DNA when I told him about the D.E.O.’s offer.”

“He is just trying to keep his daughter safe,” Grayson said pointedly, his hand curling around the backrest. Slade looked into the sparkling blue eyes and smiled dangerously.

“Remember your own words when you try to cross me.”


	6. Electricity

Kowalski had given them a starting point so it was easy to find the right signal. Only afterward did it grow complex when he had to chase it all over the world. Despite the hours at the computer and the fact that a signal run through so many stations should have been lost, everything went smoothly. Dick was not arrogant enough to believe his skill set was the only reason. Their defenses were overall pretty laughable considering the group was known for cyber attacks all over Europe. The thing screamed set up. Perhaps involving the D.E.O. had not been as bad as he had thought.

He glanced at Slade from the corner of his eye, remembering the implication. There was no denying that Slade would kill him should he help to get Rose away from his influence, all of their prior alliances be damned. Dick knew it was unfair but sometimes he did hold Adeline responsible for the way things were now. She could have been able to bring Slade to reason instead of leaving with everything that could keep him sane. The serum was a fickle thing, that much Dick knew and he was glad Wintergreen was still around. Though Slade had changed over the years to less stable. How much power Rose had over the condition, he did not know, though he was sure she would have to deal with the consequences in the end. 

“I have the address,” he finally spoke up, “A warehouse in the industrial area. What do you think? Aliens or humans?”

Slade hummed lowly and finished controlling the equipment they would need before he came nearer to look over the house structure.

“Aliens,” he said shortly, not explaining why he had drawn the conclusion and Dick tried to hold his irritation at bay. Held back information would always be a disadvantage.

“We’ll enter through the house beside it,” Slade said, tipping onto the map to show him which one he was speaking about, “The third window should be directly in reach. You’ll stay in the warehouse and attach the electrical bombs. It will generate an energy field in which we can trap them.”

Dick nodded but he was not too sure they would really encounter their target there.

“It could also be a setup. Their firewall was a joke.”

Slade shrugged, looking at the commands still typed into the pat.

“If they were human but we are dealing with aliens. They know who will come and they want to be found by us. Kowalski thinks I swallowed his lie.”

Dick nodded in understanding and if Slade was wrong it would only better his day, one less point for the evil side. As if Slade knew he was rooting against him, fingers tapped against his collar in warning.

Even though Dick had known the collar was a sign of the control he had so easily promised, he had not thought Slade would show him his place so often.

They did not wait, getting ready and reaching their destination after a few hours of driving and walking the rest over the rooftops.  

The surrounding area of the warehouse was eerily silent as if every animal had left the area. Never a good sign but he kept his mouth shut and remained in the darkness when Slade silently slid down into the middle of the room. There was a door with a much too fancy pat on the left side and Slade held the ring in front of it. A beep and a click sounded after the scan and Slade walked through without another look back.

Dick kept in the corner for a bit longer, eyes roaming the location before he begun to move. He stayed in the shadows of the upper row, fixing the electric devices on three of the four walls. Waiting was an easy task on missions, despite not liking it in his civilian life.

He froze when he heard a grinding, eyes rising to the open window to see a shadow dart through. Dark, big and powerful. 

Despite the fear crawling up his spine, he stayed on the spot, ready to move if need be.

The door opened again, after what felt like an eternity of not moving even one muscle and squinting into the darkness to keep an eye out for the creature.

Slade walked through with their target beside him. She looked like a normal human which he should have expected, considering Kowalski had been successfully fooling Slade with her appearance. But even now it was apparent that she nearly had to force herself to follow beside him as if she would rather concentrate on anything else. The shadow which had entered before turned out to be a green skinned creature. The color slowly turned white and the lizard-like tail receded to reveal a human looking man. Dick had neither seen nor heard about something like him before.

Now he wished he had pried for further information. It seemed as if the D.E.O. had not just wanted her, this was a nest. The hacker group was roughly a group of five but there was no way of knowing if their number stayed constant.

A high clink tipped him off.

He jumped backwards before the claws could rip him apart and kicked the half human form into its chest, making the alien fall over the edge. The girl and the man stared up at him, eyes glowing and bodies slowly changing but when they shifted to attack the electric field activated.

Dick could feel the pull and electricity crackle beside him, making his collar react too and he slightly stumbled away, breath knocked out of his lungs.

Slade looked satisfied enough even when another alien attacked him, a short fight broke lose but soon the alien was pulled into the electrical field too, captured securely.

“You were supposed to bring me home,” the young woman said, her voice distorting in anger.

“And your father was supposed to tell me the truth,” Slade countered and Dick landed beside him, eyes on the still open door. He had been lucky with the first one, did not mean he would be with a second.

“There are three left,” Slade said calmly, “You should be able to handle one of them. I can hear them roaming over our heads.”

Dick snapped his head up in shock just in time to get out of the way when one of them crashed into the floor, the tiles cracking under him. How long had they been up there and watching? Why had he not seen them?

The two others took on Slade and Dick tried to keep his mind away from the fights outcome. It was easier when his enemy attacked him again. The guns felt strange in his hands when he shot at the green legs, sliding under him when the alien jumped and turned when another attack came faster than he had thought. The claws ripped through his side but he ignored the burn, hitting the head of the partially transformed woman with a thrown gun. Slade had not told him their weakness per se but it seemed to be electricity. He just had to get her into the triangle and everything would be alright but that was easier said than done with his new shiny flesh wound.

“Come on, Ms. Goblin” he muttered, the alien letting out a steaming huff through her nose while she circled him.

His physical attacks did not seem to do much against the alien but he still craved for the feeling of his Escrima in his hands.

He hit the floor hard when the alien jumped onto him, claws cracking open the floor and sharp teeth trying to rip his face off. Keeping it away with hands and feet was a real task, his bones ground together and he gritted his teeth, a growl escaping his throat. He slapped it against the nose as hard as he could, finally able to stun it. The creature was suddenly more dog like than expected and he nearly felt bad.  

The second of immobility was all he needed to get his hands on the collar, tugging at it harshly to activate the safety.

His breath froze in his lungs and this time his heart really seemed to set out for a moment. Then a scream ripped out of throat while the electricity sparked up his body, muscles contracting painfully as searing white pain streamed through his nerves. 

How had he let this be attached to his neck?

He was being squashed by an alien when his vision returned, muscles spasm. Something smelled burned and he hoped it was not his skin or flesh or really he in general.

Rolling the alien off was easy but standing to get it into the triangle not so much. Thankfully Slade showed mercy and hauled her into the electric prison without much difficulty.

A hand locked around his biceps, pulling him up. His legs could barely carry his weight but he kept from leaning against the stronger body even if his mind had a hard time processing if he was really standing. The world was tilting or maybe he was falling.

“You are dishonorable even to your own. I am really not surprised,” hissed Daniela, walking along the electricity like a caged tiger.

Dick already liked her. He needed to contact the team as soon as possible to tell them about the group. They had not done anything wrong as far as he knew and Daniela seemed to have a rather good sense of morality no matter how sharp her teeth were.  

The D.E.O. arrived faster than Dick had anticipated and he held himself in the background again, watching the transaction of money and aliens from a rooftop.

He still felt weak and he had to shake out a numb feeling in his fingertips from time to time. The phantom feeling of electricity had not left and he raised his hand to the collar, every time he feared to feel a burst of energy again.

He flinched when Slade touched the collar again, craning his head away.

“You increased the volume,” Dick pressed out between clenched teeth. The touches to the collar made much more sense now.

“There is more electricity needed to tame aliens than to tame humans,” Slade responded without concern, “You are actually holding up far better than I thought.”

Dick swallowed thickly, fear trickling down his spine. If this had not been the reaction Slade had expected, then what had he expected? Would the electricity only increase?

“Really?” he spat, trying to pull away but a hand around his neck stopped him, “What kept you away from helping me or at least telling me about the change?”  

“I did help you,” Slade said, finally letting go of the collar and taking a step back ,“You are no charity case, don’t behave like one. This contract exists because you offered to be my partner and my student. If you become a nuisance there is no need to let you stay alive and if you can’t at least answer my expectations there is no need to keep you.”

Dick kept silent. The knowledge that he was expendable hit him harder than it should. Despite knowing who Slade was he had never thought the mercenary would let him die or kill him. He feared what would happen should he enrage Slade instead of simply irritating him. Getting a message to his team suddenly felt less important than before. He would have to let the storm calm down before he took further actions.


	7. Strict Business

Dick leaned against the stone railing of the balcony and watched the flowers sway in the stronger growing wind. The rustling of leaves filled the space around the hotel as if nature wanted to give its own concert and the dark clouds in the distance were creeping nearer to give their rainy applause.    

Dick was not poetic but for the last week Slade had disappeared to meet with informants and clients Dick was not allowed to know. The widow tended to ignore his existence completely. And, as if that had not been enough, he was left with nothing do to. It was just another form of torture.

Frustration was winding up his body, his hands balling into fists when he felt the necessity to hit something. He exhaled deeply.

Dick could not fault the widow. Slade had not introduced him. He was a wildcard. It did not stop him from enjoying the meals she served and the ambient of the hotel. If he forgot about Slade while sitting with the elderly woman it nearly felt like vacation, unusually silent vacation. And she did not mind how often he watched her while she did the chores as long as he kept a good distance between them.

Those were sadly the only moments he felt alright. Sometimes when he was close to sleeping he could still feel a spark of energy sizzling through his body. Slade always looked at him in a knowing but uninterested way, that made his anxiety spike. 

Last night he had not fallen asleep again, had watched the dark horizon slowly tint into a baby blue. His fingers had fluttered along the collar, not quite daring to touch. Slade had noticed but had not said anything. Dick could count the words they had spoken in the last few days on one hand because Slade barely saw the necessity to inform him about anything and Dick was not about to start a conversation with him either.

A few raindrops met his skin and he made a step back under the canopy, tongue catching the drop running down his upper lip.  

The widow was his only safe option to get a message to his team without Slade finding out but she would not do anything for him. Slade knew that. It was the only reason he was left behind without supervision which also meant there could only be a tracker integrated into his collar. He was not ready to face the consequences that entailed leaving without permission. Dick had no illusions. Especially with his discomfort, Slade would use the collar to his advantage.  

He could ask for permission but Slade would look right past the excuse and read the message. Dick was not sure with which code he should encode the letter. Slade would find crack it anyway. He presumably had a better chance if he asked to write one after a few more successful missions. He knew he had to earn the privilege.  

He flinched when a hand settled on the back of his neck, ripping him out of his thoughts. It was not possible to conceal the reaction completely but he forced his head to tilt up slowly instead of the rapid motion he had instinctively wanted to start.

“We are leaving today,” Slade stated, squeezing the collar and Dick tensed, expecting electricity to curl through his body. His eyes focused on the wet flowers, his face perfectly neutral while Slade studied him. A shaky breath escaped him when Slade pulled away, the warmth on his nape disappearing. He could feel his gaze drill into his back for a moment longer before the older man finally walked further into the room.

He remained silent about the mission even when Rose begged him to tell her more once her father kept silent about it. It was a relief when she let go of the matter with a dramatic sigh and he could genuinely say that he was glad to have her back.  

Sadly speaking about Adeline to the girl had not been his best idea. Slade focused all his attention on him since they were back, never letting him alone with her, and Dick wondered how the utterance of a single name around his daughter had made him into such a bloodhound. He should have played it safer from the beginning but that was that.

Averting attention was not possible either and there was nothing he could do differently to keep Slade off his case. Freedom of action was far from his reach. So he concentrated on training Rose while under the scrutiny of the watchful eye. The young girl was still able to infect him with her happiness despite the overbearing presence of her father. Even sleeping beside his enemy grew easier when the collar stayed inactive and his mind had decided that he was safe despite everything else.

“We have another mission.”

He should have known that sleeping peacefully for the first night since tangling with Slade could not be a good sign.  

“You just returned three days ago! Dick said I could finally try a double somersault.”

By the looks of it, Rose was as excited as him.

“I know,” was Slade’s only reply to the glowering girl as if his mind was halfway on the mission already and he could not be bothered by his daughter’s temper. Rose looked downright nasty at this point but she could not say anything to change his mind and Slade, in fact, did know because he had been there to watch her advances.  

“I’m sure it won’t take long, princess” he tried to cheer her up and the scowl softened a little bit before she looked at her father for confirmation with a hopeful gaze.

“Maybe three days,” Slade supplied, putting his phone away and standing up as if it was all she would get as goodbye but he stopped near her, ruffling through her hair when she hugged him.

Dick tilted his head to hide a smile and followed Slade when the man beckoned him, telling Rose to train the movements they had gone through until he was back. Wintergreen had arrived during their breakfast and would surely help her.

“It’s only a routine mission,” Slade supplied when they settled into one of the cars to drive to a safe house in another town. The man had still barely spoken to him, though more than in Hungary. Dick was not sure if it was a bad sign or if his contemplating could potentially turn out positive for him.

“And that means?” he asked when Slade did not speak further. The man smiled, the car picking up speed.

“Checking the security and now that I have you, well, you sneak in, I try to catch you.”

Dick pursued his lips, glancing at the man. It meant he could try to move freely in the office. If they were testing the firewall maybe he could send a mail to his team though it would seem strange to them that he redirect messages to Lex Corp.

“You don’t think I will try something?”

“I’m betting on it, Richard.”

He swallowed at the use of his first name, mouth dry because of the low voice that sent shivers down his spine. Unease and excitement mixed together. He did not get him.

“How much?” he asked with a smirk.

Slade glanced at him and then tilted his head, taking a sharp turn on a yellow growing light.

“You really want to bet even though you have nothing to give?”

Dick wet his lips, had asked without expecting an answer. It had been a bad joke anyway and Slade had a point. They fell into silence again, stepping into their costumes when they arrived at the safe house.

He did what he was told, not more and not less. If he went all out and showed every fault in the security he would only stab himself and his team in the back. Slade seemed satisfied with his work regardless and Dick was only glad that he had not needed to meet Luthor to do this job. 

It was on his last walkabout when he stumbled upon a near stash of ink erasers and let one of them disappear in his pocket. It was an easy school trick but something Slade would not anticipate and he wondered why he had not thought about this sooner.

A mix of all the codes he had ever learned would hopefully keep Slade from finding the right algorithm to encrypt his message. Barbara or Tim would realize what he meant, they knew him well enough. If nothing else then at least that it had something to do with the team. He would keep it as simple as he could.

He did not dare write Bruce, fearing his former mentor would find out more than Dick wanted.

It was not easy to hide the giddiness from showing when they made their way back to the residence and he took his time munching on the late night snack to evade running into Slade too soon, who had thankfully disappeared in his office, probably to speak to Luthor. Dick was positively surprised that the businessman used the money of the Light to keep his normal employees save too. Then again, Luthor had started out as a psychotic xenophobe and not as an ‘I-want-the-world-at-my-feet’ super villain.  

“Nothing to do?” he asked, sticking his head into the living room where Rose was lying on the couch as if someone had shot her. She raised her head in surprise and a grin brightened her expression, obviously she had not heard her father walk upstairs.

“I thought you would stay away longer!” she said, jumping up to come closer. They had barely needed two days, would have been back in one if they had not stopped at the safe house.

“Not this time, no house party for you,” he said jokingly and the young girl huffed in feigned offense.

“What are you doing now?” she asked interested, looking at the eraser between his fingers. He let it vanish in his palm again.

“I wanted to write a card to my family. Care to help me?” he asked smiling, to do something relatively normal would do her good anyway and considering the living room was filled with decorative wood, she did like to be creative. Wintergreen had probably an eye on her so she would develop fighting unrelated hobbies. Alfred had tried the same with him. Though he was beginning to wonder if Joey had inherited his creativity from Slade now that Rose was just as artsy.  

She surprised him even a bit when she dashed into her room and came back with paper and pencils of various colors. He wanted to tell her that this was only a card to inform them he was alright but his mouth stayed shut, not wanting to take away her excitement.  

They settled down onto the couch again, occupied for the next hour until Rose was satisfied with the flashiness of the card. She unknowingly helped him by keeping at his side when he started to write, blocking the card from view. He had not seen cameras in the room but he was sure they were there.

He did not disguise his intention, knowing Rose would not speak to her father about this considering he had told her he was undercover. Slade would know what trick he had used the moment the mercenary saw the pencil in his possession so he left the eraser with her, telling her with a wink to leave him a few messages around the house during the next days. It always helped to develop own algorithms that could be used to message the people one trusted.

Slade was looking through the files of their next target when he walked into the study. He let the card slide on the table and waited for Slade to acknowledge him.

The silver gaze flittered over the artistic card before he placed the file on the desk after a long moment of silence, uncrossing his legs. No surprise, Dick registered and concluded that Slade had at least watched them for a bit before working again.

“Why should I allow you to send it?”

Dick could feel irritation bubble up inside him but he had known the question would come even if the answer was obvious. Slade was testing him and Dick should be glad that it was all it was.

“They will grow worried or skeptic, perhaps even both if I do not contact them once in a while,” Dick said and forced himself to lightly tug at the collar, “And you told me the reason I wear this, is to help me return to my normal life. It won’t help me if I have lost their trust before. They will come for me if they think I’m in danger. The contract would be nullified.”

Slade huffed.

“I’ll send it,” he said pushing the file towards him and Dick picked it up. This time their target was a man in his late thirties, belonging to a global business corporation with its main seat in Canada.

It was a killing mission.

“Is he supposed to disappear because Luthor does not want competition?” Dick asked, his gaze stopping on the marital status. The man was married and Dick was glad to see he had no children. There was no way he could have lived with the knowledge he had let parents be killed, this was bad enough as it was.

“Exactly, Luthor is quite repetitive in his behavior.”

Dick frowned, looking up from the file at Slade and his gaze shortly flickered to the glittery card between the man's fingertips.

“How often are you doing this for him?”

For a moment it seemed as if his question would be ignored but then Slade shook his head.

“There are things you do not want to know.”

Dick’s frown increased but he accepted the answer. If Slade reacted like this it was better not to know before the mission, he could still try to find out later.

“What’s the plan?”

Slade leaned back in his chair, gesturing him to sit down and Dick did once it became apparent that the older man would not speak further if he did not follow the order. He had stopped growing nervous under his scrutiny since Slade watched him constantly but this time it seemed different as if Slade was looking deeper, prying away his defenses. Maybe he was trying to decide if it would really be lucrative to have him on the mission. Dick wished he could tell him that he would never be ready but he had made a deal.

“Most important is that these missions do not become repetitive. We don’t want to be found out,” explained Slade, sounding as if Dick was meant to remember those words, “He lives in a rather run down area, a humble man if you will. It gives us a perfect possibility.”

“Stayed where he began? Is still living in his parent’s house?” Dick asked, looking at the birthplace and Slade hummed.

“His parents died a few years prior. Only he and his wife live in the house now. There have been robberies in the past and he would be a profitable target.”

Dick did not say anything to the plan. He could not believe he was really going to do this. Was this how Kaldur and Artemis had felt? How could he have brought them in such a situation? Had they told him everything they had to do?

“What about his wife? Can she live?”

“If she does not get in our way,” Slade shrugged and that was all Dick needed to know before he started reading the whole file. Knowing more about his target would only help to keep at least the wife alive. He would not give Slade the chance to limit his knowledge again.

They did not have much yet, only the basics Luthor had gathered for his own services and entirely about the man, which probably meant his wife had nothing to do with the business he kept. Dick only looked at the surname; he could not yet bear to know who he was helping to kill. Akinloye was surprisingly the maiden name of his wife and not him.     

It was two days later that they moved to their new location, Rose grudgingly accepting that a partner did not mean less work.

It was cold in Canada and the blinking collar easily hid under a thick scarf while they walked through the streets. No one paid them any mind even though Slade was hardly concealing who he was, though Dick guessed even if it was no secret who Slade Wilson was, only a handful knew about the man's work. He breathed into his scarf, his sunglasses growing foggy.

“Still cold?” Slade asked even though the man was not even looking at him, gaze flickering through the streets as if he was marking targets. He grumbled, pushing his gloved hands deeper into his pocket. How the man was not freezing was a mystery to him. Slade was wearing an open coat as if it was early spring.   

Dick stepped into the apartment with a sigh, it was one of Slade’s many safe houses and already secured. They were lucky - or unlucky - that it was not far away from the town their target lived in.

“Will you be able to do this?”

Dick turned around in surprise to see Slade leaning against the doorframe. The question was not in regard to his feelings. This was only to make sure he would not end up in the way. Slade pushed back from the wood when he hesitated, striding towards him and capturing him between his arms when he automatically stepped back just to knock against the table of the large living room.

“You had time to think on the way here, so I’m asking you: Will you be able to do this?”

Maybe but that was not what Slade wanted to hear.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

Dick nodded, “Yes.”

He hated to let this happen with every fiber of his being but he knew about it now, looking away to protect himself would not help his victims. If he was there and helped he could at least bring the truth to the right attention at the right time. At least he could make sure the woman survived, he did not trust Slade not to kill her.

They studied the couple for two weeks, their main attention on the man. His behavior was written into a database until they were able to analyze him better than the local psychologist he visited every two days from 1p.m to 1.30pm since one year and exactly three months. Eating and sleeping disorder through stress was their diagnosis. The man was clearly overworked and used the visits for relaxation, learning techniques to help him calm down and take a step back when needed but sometimes he simply just dwelled in the office to take a break. He would still need time to get better, not that he would live long enough.  

Slade had not taken him to the house on the first nights and Dick was not sure why until he saw the wife. She was pregnant. It was hard not to see with her bulging stomach. Maybe she was even close to her ninth month. He swallowed down the bitter taste in his mouth, ignoring Slade who was watching him as if he expected a meltdown. Dick tried to appear calm, not wanting Slade to pull him out. Even without a father the baby had to stay save.

The mercenary did not comment and other than the constant vigilance Slade did not acknowledge the possible complication. The wife - Dick had not been able to look at any names, it would make everything too real - seemed to be content enough to be home and spend time with her husband as soon as he returned. It was obvious how much they loved each other. He had listened to the calls they had received in the last two weeks, he knew they had wanted a child for a long time and now they would never be the family they had wanted to be. It was ripping him apart.

“Does it really have to be a robbery?” Dick asked while he pulled the costume up and tugged the mask over his face.

“He has no reason to commit suicide. Robbery is the only option we have,” said Slade, for once completely in black too. This all rubbed Dick the wrong way. Deathstroke always made sure people knew he had been hired.

“Has Luthor really such deep pockets? This is not how you work,” he said, slight agitation creeping into his voice. How could he ever look at Bruce again?

Slade chuckled.

“People will know it was me, Richard. The right people, the right organizations but not the simple police.”

“If you don’t want to leave the place--clean,” Dick begun, hoping the use of his first name was good instead of bad, “Can I take care of the wife?”  

Slade raised an eyebrow, looking down at him. The silence was more uncomfortable than in the last days and Dick just hoped he had not overstepped a line.

“If you want to save her so badly, do as you please but if she sees us, she is dead,” Slade relented.

Dick nodded, knowing it was not the worst deal and the best he would get. He knew, he only got this chance because Slade held no animosity towards the family and was paid to target the man. Slade still had a honor code; it just did not stop him from killing people.

They waited in the dark until the wife had gone to bed. On Thursdays the husband always stayed up longer to relax in front of the television.

They entered through a window in the bathroom, finding their way through the darkness with ease. Dick watched Slade crouch down behind the wall and their eyes met. He was gestured to go on with his own agenda.

He hesitated when Slade turned back around, head tilting to listen. Rationally he knew the death was inevitable and he knew fighting Slade would only make it worse. The woman could die if she heard the quarrel and Dick’s stomach turned when he imagined that Slade would make both of them into an example. It was hard enough to know that someone would die.

He breathed through, looking at the wall as if he could see the man behind it.

_I’m sorry._

Dick made his way up to the bedroom, where the lights had gone out more than an hour before they had entered the house. He carefully opened the door and slipped inside. The wife was lying on the bed, breathe calm and Dick slunk forward, pulling the small vial out of his pocket. The sleep-inducing drug was self-created, so it would not harm the baby.

He reached the bed quietly, standing still to make sure she had really not heard him. Her face was scrunched into a slight frown but it was nothing out of the ordinary, with a final breath he set to use the liquid.

He never did.

Her eyes opened wide, painful grunt escaping her lips. A construction, his brain supplied or a false one. Their gazes met and Dick was nearly not fast enough to muffle the scream in time.

He stared down at her as fearful as she stared up at him.

Both their heart beats were probably beating in the same tempo. He kept her pinned on the bed, indicating her to try and keep silent with a finger over his lips. Tears trickled down her face but she stopped fighting. He would have to keep his voice low and her quiet but perhaps they still had a chance.

“Don’t even think about it.”

The harsh whisper made him freeze as did the unshed sword pressing against his cheek. It was slick against his skin. The woman had begun sobbing, brown eyes darting to the glinting steel. Her tears mixed with the blood dropping onto her cheek. 

Dick swallowed thickly. He had to try something, anything.

“She does not need to die,” he pressed out between clenched teeth. If he had to he could redirect the sword with his collar protected neck and position himself fully over her, not giving Slade a chance to shoot her. It would at least buy him time and hopefully not a shot in his back.

“Leave the room.”

Dick nearly turned around just because he could not believe his ears but he stayed stubbornly where he was. Thankfully the redirecting actually worked and even the slight electricity that coursed through him did not scare him enough to make him pause when he hit the sword out of his grip. It clattered to the floor loudly. The woman had closed her eyes, undoubtedly praying while Dick waited for the next strike.

“As you wish,” Slade said, voice low, “Then watch.”

He was grabbed by the back of his neck and hit the wall with a gasp, head cracking against the concrete. The silver eye was gleaming in the darkness but Dick was not finished yet even with his head protesting and he lunged. A kick into his stomach knocked the breath out of him but it was not harsh enough to knock him back into the wall. His fist was stopped in front of Slade's face. 

"This could have been easy," Slade said darkly and Dick snarled at him. He wrenched his hand out of the grip, ready to drag this out as much as he could. 

Slade struck him across the face with the back of his hand, smearing the blood from his cheek all over his face. Dick gasped as his head snapped to the side not expecting this out of everything. A hand wound harshly into his hair, keeping him still. Blood was flowing down his stinging cheek, the small slice from before tore further open. The gun clicked and the woman stared at him in pure hate while tears streamed down her face.

“She doesn’t need to die” he repeated and dropped down in front of him, hearing the intake of breath. “Please.”

He shuddered when he thought about the electricity that could start coursing through his veins at any moment.

“ _Please_ , at least the baby.”

All he could do was beg on his knees, clutching onto him in desperation hoping Slade would show mercy for an unborn child.

Dick flinched when the shot went off, gaze fearfully rising and for a second he only saw the blood. He refocused in an instant, set his mind on the task instead of letting himself get overwhelmed by his feelings.

The bullet had grazed her head, rendering her unconscious, dead if help did not come fast but certainly disabled for life. It was a shot a half trained robber would make if he was scared.

The second Slade loosened his grip he rushed towards her and stopped the bleeding of the head wound as best as he could, ignoring the furious mercenary.

This was not what he had wanted.


	8. Conditions

He forcefully pulled the boy away from the woman after the wound had been bandaged enough to stop bleeding profoundly. They were still pretending this was a robbery.

His gaze fell onto the cut left by his sword and his grip around the arm grew firmer. Dick looked up at him instinctively but his gaze was empty.

“Be glad that at least our target is dead,” he said coldly, not caring how the younger was feeling and Dick looked away again, biting onto his lip and the emptiness replaced by a flicker of despair before it formed into defiance directed at him. It spiked the anger and Slade stepped closer, his other hand forming a fist at his side.

Slade wanted to hit him, crack the bones of his beautiful face until it was blood slick until Dick would beg for him to stop. Instead he bit his anger down, knowing no complications would arise even with the boy stepping out of line.

William was already waiting for them a few streets away and Dick said nothing to the harsh treatment when he pushed him into the car.

It was his fault too. He could – should – have shot her between the eyes. But seeing Dick like this only made him aware that his decision had been the right one. The boy looked haunted enough, to be caught in the terror of his mind would not help any of them. He would try again in a few months, easing him into the feeling of not protecting every life.

The car filled with silence and his gaze caught Wintergreens when his old friend narrowed his eyes at him. Dick was leaning against the window, staring down onto the file of their targets while black-clad hands crumbled the paper. The blood had stopped flowing down his cheek, crusting on his neck and bruises would soon bloom on his face.

Slade sighed, looking out of the window. They had a long drive ahead and he hoped Wintergreen would soon stop watching him with accusation.

Perhaps he should have left Dick out of the mission but it was better showing him the stakes now than in a few months when the contract would be nearly over.  

He changed to the driver seat after another hour, giving Wintergreen the assignment to take care of the wife and Dick. The mission was not over as long as she might remember them and Dick definitely needed someone who did not answer to the name Slade Wilson.

He was driving for a while before his gaze flickered back to the boy who was still holding the file as if his life depended on it. With his face cleaned he looked nearly normal even if his cheek was slightly swollen.

“You knew I would never just let you kill,” Dick said when their unmasked eyes met but there was no heat behind the words.

He had known, had expected an unruly partner, it was why he had let him do what he wanted even let him hesitate.

For the moment it only mattered that the person who was supposed to be dead was. The contract was fulfilled, Luthor would be satisfied. But Dick should have known better, he had not commanded the boy to kill someone and he had given him a choice.

“I warned you, you knew too.”

Dick averted his gaze.

“I am done warning you. You started working against me the second we met and I let you, I gave you a chance.”

Dick glared at him, the heat back in his eyes.

“I did what you wanted me to do for the last weeks,” he spat, muscle coiling tight under his costume and Wintergreen lay a hand on the young man’s shoulder as if he feared the boy would lung for him.

“We both know that’s a lie. I know that you contacted that precious team of yours,” he replied, knowing the card had been perpetrated to contain information about the aliens even without fully cracking the code. Dick looked out of the window, nearly ripping the file apart. He had overstepped his boundaries one too many times and Slade had no desire to work with him on this basis. 

His irritation had drifted away by the time they arrived at home. He left the car to his old friend and pulled Dick out in impatience, leading him down into the hideout past the trainings room to keep Rose from overhearing them.

Slade touched the collar, could not have missed the twitch of fear even if he was blind. He did not comment, just slipped the collar off his neck to let it fall to the ground carelessly. Dick relaxed instantly, even though he was still touching him, feeling the already steady growing pulse under his thumb.

Slade brushed over the crusted blood on his cheek and sighed, focusing on the coarseness under his thumb instead of the blue eyes that were watching him.  

“Do you want to end the contract?” he asked firmly.

Dick blinked and then frowned, gnawing at his lips before he closed his eyes in defeat.

“No.”

“Then behave like it,” he ordered and Dick looked up at him again, gaze searching before a nod was his answer. Slade knew though that a yes was not enough, no matter how much Batman had raised his Robins as little soldiers.

“Are you hurting somewhere else?” he asked finally, tipping against the scratch on his cheek. While he was sure William had checked up on him he had still collided with the wall and while he had held back when kicking him into the stomach, it would not have been enjoyable either. He did not stop cradling his face, searched his eyes for signs of a concussion while he swept his head for tell-tale bumps. 

“I’m as fine as I can be,” Dick replied quietly - gaze set to look past him - and Slade detangled his hand from the raven strands to brush down his exposed nape. The pink lips pursed as Dick tried not to shudder, the struggle clear on his face and his heartbeat speeding up to a faster beat.

He kept his gaze on the damaged face, watched Dick lick his lips as the tension in his body rose. Cheeks grew warm under his touch. 

A contemplating sound left his throat and the blue gaze flickered back to look at him. If they were here, isolated from the other two he could just as well use the time they had. If this was the easiest thing Dick could give him, he would take it. For now it would be enough. 

“You know which rule we discarded.”

Dick swallowed, shifting under his hands but then he tilted his head up and into his palm, lips parting.

“Good boy,” he taunted against his lips, softly biting into the red flesh the second Dick send him a glare. “Too soon?”

The growl developing in Dick’s throat was cut short when his tongue pushed into the willing mouth. The long lean legs widened a friction, inviting him to press up closer while Dick relaxed under his grasp, closing his eyes and he easily pressed him against the wall.

Slade dragged his tongue over the seam of the soft lips, felt the intake of breath against his own and pulled back enough to speak, keeping his arm on the wall both to steady himself and capture the smaller man. His fingers ghosted over the exposed collarbone.

“If you want to convince me you should at the very least move your lips.”

Dick parted his lips and looked away. He huffed against the young man’s skin, nipping at his jaw.

His pupils had dilated. Dick reacted to touch as if he needed it to survive. The heat rose in him like a storm. He drove on sensation. It did not matter how innocent the brushes against his skin really were. The reaction never ceased to stir desire in Slade.

“We both know you paid a lot,” he said slowly, making sure to lean against him. Dick licked his lips, breath shallow when his superior weight pressed him harder into the wall. “I won’t forget one thing for the other. You learn to work with me or you leave.”

Dick’s jaw worked. For a moment Slade let him think before he brushed over the expanse of the tanned throat, from his ear to his jugular. Goosebumps erupted on the skin, breath caught in Dick’s throat.

“Do you understand?” he demanded when he pulled back to look him in the eyes, fingernails scraping up over his nape to curl into the black hair, leaving light red stripes behind. The blue eyes closed.

Dick swallowed thickly, body thrumming with arousal that he would not be able to deny even if he locked the gasp in his throat when Slade pushed his thigh between the spread legs.

“Come again?”

Dick shuddered when he moved his leg against the growing hardness, pulse fast under his fingertips.  

“Yes,” was his hissed answer, the defiance back in blue eyes even though they were not as fierce as usual.  

He smiled, let his hand brush down the heated body and stepped back. 

Dick watched him, waiting for his next move with nervouse anticipation and a hint of curiosity that made him look far too innocent, too vulnerable for his own good. Never would he admit it out loud but most of the time he had no idea what Dick was thinking. Did the boy really want to be fucked so badly or had he no clue how he looked?

Dick watched him, not moving as if he knew.  

“Get down on your knees.”

Dick parted his lips but the surprise was gone so quick Slade nearly did not catch it especially when Dick dropped to the ground in one fluid motion, thighs spread and hands on his knees. The silence was deafening, a roar in Slade’s ears and he had grabbed him by the chin before he had even registered the motion. Dick instinctively tried to shift away but his grip grew firmer. The only sound filling the room was Dick’s slow breathing and he tilted his head back, digging his thumb into the tender cheek to watch his pupils blow wider, swallowing the blue.

“Pain, hmm?”

Dick tensed, gasping when he grabbed a fist full of black hair and yanked him back, stepping so near that Dick had no other chance but arch his body. The blue gaze traveled to his crotch and Dick swallowed, wetted his lips. 

Slade waited even though he really did not want to but he knew Dick, knew that he was struggling and he would rather stop now than in the middle.

It had been a long time since someone had pleasured him with their mouth. Adeline had disliked it and with others the idea had not crossed his mind. Even with the serum he had never been fond of having anyone’s teeth near his body, least of all there.  

“Did you keep the postcard?”

One would think Dick might ask that before his face ended up millimeters in front of his crotch.  

“You know I didn’t,” he replied, letting his blunt fingernails rake over his nape. Dick let out a slow breath, a smile forming on his lips, little and private and sad.

“Just making sure I still get you,” Dick hummed, leaned forward to nuzzle the bulge in his pants. Pressure and moist breath made his cock swell rapidly. His thighs brushed against his shoulders when Dick pressed nearer, biting into the cloth and moaning when he clutched onto his pants as if he did not want to let go anymore.

If the boy could do anything then hundred eighty percent personality turns in less than a millisecond. 

“You wanted me on my knees all along,” Dick mumbled against his pants, shifting against his body as if he was a pillow in his bed.

Slade chuckled. If the words were untrue, he would have never taken this kind of payment. But the vigilante could not begin to imagine how much he enjoyed every single tremor running over his body. Every reaction he could draw out of him was another accomplishment, another thing to savor like fine wine. It was the control Dick had promised him.  

Dick did not wait any longer, teeth closing around the zipper in a delicate motion while hands grasped the back of his thighs and the nimble tongue pushed between clothes to press up against his hardness. His hips twitched when Dick began to nip and suck on the exposed white fabric. Slick tongue trailing up while Dick looked at him with blue eyes that sparkled as his cock grew harder in the wet convince of his underwear.

Slade really wanted to forgo all the play and dive right in. It would be so easy to take the pretense of control from Dick and to push his cock down the narrow throat until tears pooled in the corner of his eyes.   

He pressed his fingers into the tight muscles of his nape until Dick relaxed, breath washing evenly over his skin. Dick watched as he pushed his pants down and Dick nipped along the outline of his shaft, sucking at the outline of his glans. His length prickled with want.

“Enough with the teasing, Rose will miss us if we take too long.”

There was a flicker of something crossing Dick’s face. It was not quite fear, not quite worry. Slade knew Dick was not fond of her knowing about the contract and he more or less agreed. He would definitely never let her see _this_. He had not warned him for nothing though. Depending on what Wintergreen had told her, she would try to get through the door in a few minutes. Nothing would kill his erection faster.  

Dick took the cloth between his teeth, nose burying into the trimmed trail of white hair, pressing his face against him without reservation. Nose and open mouth dragged over his flesh, making both of them shudder. The breath was so warm, the lips so soft. 

Fuck. 

“What do you want me to do?” Dick breathed against him not waiting for an answer to circle his balls with his nimble tongue, mouth engulfing them to suck while his rapidly out-filling cock straightened. Dick dragged his lips over his base, nose tickling his skin and then he caught them with his tongue again, head moving from side to side until they fell out of his mouth, slick and churning.

“Whatever is enough to make me forget your disobedience,” he said, voice halting every so often from the sensation of those lips on his skin. He wanted to know what Dick would do.

The blue eyes looked unsure for a moment but the emotion disappeared fast, the skilled tongue circling the tip before Dick sucked the head into his hot wet mouth. Slade just so kept his hips from twitching forward and he buried his hand back into his hair. It earned him a mischievous grin.

His breath hitched when the tongue flexed over his slit, cheeks hollowing around his head to create suction. He twitched when Dick let go with a twist of his head, length slapping against his stomach before Dick’s mouth was back, body shifting between his legs. His breathing was soft as he salivated around him, spit clinging messily to his lips.        

Pre-cum smeared across reddened cheeks when Dick mouthed from tip to base with a moan just to lick up one long stripe, mouth sucking the tip in with a squelching sound. The vibrant blue kept watching him and Slade let out a controlled breath, feeling his balls grow tighter and pressure building up.

He dragged his hand down through the black hair, doing his best to keep his cool.

A hum left the slick lips and Slade hardened his grip, feeling the vibrations clearly. The blue eyes twinkled and Dick took him into his mouth, lips stretching over his flesh when Dick pushed until he hit the back of his throat. The drag back was enough to make Slade grow weak in his knees. 

“Hands or no hands?” Dick asked, voice jumping a bit and he nuzzled along his cock again, as if it gave him something to do. Slade guided his heavy cock back into the pliant mouth while he thought about the question. 

“No hands.”

Dick snorted, the movement strange around his cock and the blue eyes scrutinized him intently for a moment before Dick pulled back again, spit trailing down his chin, glistening on his cock. The look on his face as the vigilante gazed at his swollen shaft did more to his libido than it should and it did not help when Dick parted his lips against the tip of his cock, mouth twisting against the sensitive flesh. His hips twitched forward, pre-cum smearing across the smooth face.

There was a glint in his eyes, something daring and before Slade could so much as guess what it meant Dick proceeded to take his throbbing cock bit by bit down his throat.  

Slade could not help but stare down at him in arguably slight shock.

The slick narrow heat drew a gasp out of him and his head fell back at the sensation. His hand settled onto the hot neck to press him nearer and the blown blue eyes flickered up, the tongue on the underside of his cock stilling for a second before Dick realized that nothing unpleasant would happen. How Dick was even able to move the organ was a mystery to him but it still rubbed against the underside of his cock, peaking out to tickle at his balls every so often. It made it hard to think in general.

Dick blinked tears away but did not pull away, throat fluttering around his member as it tried to squeeze the orgasm out of him. 

Slade could feel him swallowing around his cock, throat tightening further around him. The young hero trembled, pre-cum bubbling down his throat. Dick nuzzled into the hairy skin, seeming to push even deeper.

He could not help but growl and he brushed his fingers over the expanded throat, making Dick whimper. How was he even able to fit in there?

Dick started to move, humming and tongue swirling around the tip when he nearly seemed to let go but only used the movement to breathe. It was a surreal sight quite like the first time he had pressed him down onto the mattress to sink his cock into the tight heat, unsure how much he could take.

The vigilante never ceased to surprise him.  

Slade could have probably watched him all day if he thought he would survive another venture down the slick throat.

He stopped him before Dick could fill his throat again and Dick pulled back hesitantly, mouth staying pressed to the tip of his cock while heavy bursts of air brushed over the heated flesh. Cum caught on the puffy growing lips and the nimble tongue flicked out to taste. Slade wanted to come right then and there.

He would love to see his face splattered with cum, wondered how it would affect Dick to kneel before him with semen dripping down his face. The heat had felt good though and he wanted to see those fine lips swelling even more, wanted to see them stretch around his flesh again while Dick struggled to fill his throat.

Dick had tensed slightly but his eyes were blown wide, his chest having. If this had not been supposed to be the aftermath of his insubordination Slade would have let him choose. He nearly wanted to let him decide anyway.

Instead he framed his flushed cheeks and Dick opened his mouth, tongue out. His pulse grew faster and Slade sunk back into his mouth. Dick squeezed his eyes shut, brows drawing together and a choke was drawn out of him when Slade pressed past the back of his throat. Dick clutched onto his underarms, throat squeezing his cock. The blue eyes were filled with tears but the hands on his arms were not trying to get him off.

Dick shifted, body arching to open his mouth and throat wider and he grew pliant between his hands. The eyes fluttered shut again and Slade could feel him tremble under his fingertips.

He pulled out just enough to leave his throat to slam right in. This time Dick gagged, eyes flying open just to squeeze shut again as a whimper was pushed back into his throat. Squelching sounds filled the room and drool dripped past his stretched mouth as Slade drove down his throat. 

Dick tense in his grip when he came, tried to swallow around him, fighting for breath for the first time. He remained sheeted for a second longer with his eyes closed, riding out his orgasm and then he pulled out in one long salvia coated slide when nails pricked into his skin.

Dick nearly fell against him, catching himself before he could, harshly gathering breath in his lungs. His gaze directed downwards and slightly hazy. Tears slid down his cheeks and a slick trail of sperm and spit dripped out of his slack mouth.  

He closed his pants again, crouching down in front of him to tip his head up. His lips were puffy and tender when Slade brushed over them with a thumb.

“Next time you offer your body this should definitely be on your resume.”

He would not forget the feeling any time soon, probably never.

Dick bared his teeth, hands forming into fists on the ground, slapping his hand away to wipe the spit and cum from his lips with a rough gesture.

“Right,” he growled and Slade tilted his head at the anger, pulling him up by his biceps. The anger in his eyes wavered and they widened when he thumbed his jeans open. 

He tripped him before Dick could fully turn, pulling him back against his chest. Slade knew he would try to take care of the arousal in the showers. He could grant him the time alone after all that had happened but he really did not want to.

Dick gasped when he grabbed his crotch, bucking. He tugged a hand into his pants easily even though the strong legs clamped together. There was no finesse in the movement of his hand more strength than anything else but it made Dick squirm in his arms like he was supposed to.

Dick moaned pitily, hands clutching onto his arms.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, amusement lacing his low voice. The glare he received was cut short when the blue eyes rolled back, Dick’s head tipping back against his shoulder. 

“Sla–Ah!" 

Dick cried out when he came, body seizing and hips twitching enticingly. Slade chuckled, smearing the warm cum over the twitching stomach when he pulled his hand away.  The smaller body was smoldering under his touch and he licked over the cut on his cheek, tasting blood, sweat, and cum on his skin. Dick pressed his face into his throat, legs trembling.

"Still think this is the lesser of two evils?” Slade asked and Dick glared at him, trying to twist out of his grasp.

“Yes. I don’t care what you do to me. I would gladly die to save a life.”

He kept him close, pressing his lips to his sensitive ear.

“And still,” he began, “You let me kill a man today.”

The blue gaze lowered, the hatred not strong enough to mask his despair. With a soft bite to his throat, he let the collar snap back on and pulled away. Dick stumbled forward like a newborn deer, hand hovering decidedly over the mess in his pants.

“I will give you some time alone but do not forget that Rose will ask where you are.”

The younger man nodded silently but it did not hide the distraught expression. The relief was visible in the line of his shoulders when he made it to the showers without interference. Slade did not even try to understand what Dick was thinking. Guessed he would be better off not knowing.  

When he walked up into the living room after changing and cleaning - his old friend really did not have to know anything about this -, Rose was doing the homework Wintergreen had given her.

He knew he was lucky to have her. She was such a devoted kid but had still had enough spunk to not end like her brothers. Since she had started to grow interested in what he did, all he could think about was, that she might just be the one who would end in the same profession. Joseph had always been too peaceful and Grant had gotten over his head too fast, had died because of his foolishness.

Rose smiled when she noticed him and stood up from her chair to greet him with a hug.

“Any wishes for dinner?” he asked with a small smile that only she deserved to get.

Rose pursed her lips in thought and then she grinned, looking up at him sheepishly.

“Can we get pizza?”

Slade raised his brow. His daughter had never suggested pizza in the years she had lived with him. He crossed his arms, scrutinizing her.

“And your reason?”

Rose twitched away slightly. His voice a bit sharper than he had intended it to be and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other while looking at the floor. He could not remember the last time she had been nervous around him.

“Daddy,” she began hesitantly, “will Dick really stay with us for a year?”    

Slade should have known. His daughter had practically fallen in love with him the first time she had met Dick as Robin and he looked disapprovingly at her, making her fidget even more under his gaze.

“Yes, ” Slade said after a moment and he was regarded with a smile that made his heart clench because it was for Dick, “Who suggested you should change your eating habits for him?”

“Winty” she responded and Slade sighed. Dick and he had talked on the way home, so Wintergreen had probably roped out of him what he liked to eat.

“Am I in trouble?” Rose asked, blinking innocently, “Can I blame it on Winty?”

“No and you already did” he responded, ruffling her through the hair, “Either way, Dick might stay.”

He could already see her starting to protest but spoke over her anyway.

“You, on the other hand, will not, at least not for the whole time.”

“But, Daddy!” she began, hands balling into fists and frown on her face. Slade felt a tiny bit bad but he would not let her grow attached to Dick even more. He was a much greater danger to get her away than even Adeline.

“It’s not up to discussion,” he reminded, “Any other dish you would like to eat?”

Rose pursued her lips and then she grinned.  

“Chicken Amok.”

He should have known. She had talked about cooking for Dick at one of the training sessions and it obviously would be the dish her mother had always cooked.

“Do we have everything?”

Rose tilted her head and sprinted into the kitchen. He watched in amusement when she proceeded to search for all the ingredients in rapid speed and turned around when he heard Dick drawing closer. He looked tired and evaded his gaze in favor of watching Rose.

Slade took his time to assess the damage he had done. The cut would heal in a few days and the bruises would disappear faster, the deep blue had already turned purple.

“We need chicken,” Rose said, slightly muffled because her head was still in the refrigerator.

“Anything else?” he asked, pushing away from the door frame to step into the kitchen.

“No, just,” the words died on her tongue when she saw Dick, door closing quietly “Oh.”

Dick smiled, winking at her, “It looks worse than it feels.”

Rose squinted at him, mouth set.

“Really?”

“Really,” Dick promised amused, “despite that I am used to it. We don’t all have the same fancy healing factor your dad has.”

Slade did not comment when he heard the roughness of his voice and watched his daughter gush around him with a sigh. He left them in each other’s company when Rose started to speak about her day to get chicken.  

Wintergreen had not yet returned from the assignment Slade had given him so he had no other choice. Hopefully the whole effort to clean up after this mission would not be useless.    

By the time he came back Dick was trimming Rose’s hair to the delight of his daughter. Slade had to admit that it looked professional and Rose promptly commanded that the stupid ponytail on her father’s head had to go. He did not try to go against the decision. It was far too long by now.  

Dick had to promise her he would do just that once they had eaten. The young hero was probably starving…well, more or less.

The two had already cut the vegetables and he mixed the last ingredients together, keeping an eye on them.

Rose did not leave Dick’s side, even when he picked up the towel with all her hair on it to throw them away as if she feared he would disappear the moment she looked away. Maybe he should not have told her about his plans yet.

They both looked so happy while they ate that Slade was reminded of a time long past. When Joseph had been a toddler babbling with food falling out of his mouth and Grant looking at him seething in jealousy because he was getting all the attention. They had laughed a lot back then, more than before and certainly more than afterward.    

“That’s how I know you,” Dick said jokingly, hand raking through the shorter hair to make the loose white strands fall out. The expression would have looked childish if the amusement in his voice had not felt so forced.

“Why did you have it anyway? You always said long hair would only be in the way.”

He honestly did not know, had stopped caring a long time ago.  

“You remember?” he asked instead and Dick snorted, leaning towards him as if sharing a secret. Slade did not let his gaze drop to his lips, knew it was not Dick’s intention but he was still hyper aware of them without Rose in the room.

“You grabbed my hair in midair, I thought I was dying,” Dick responded, sucking his bottom lip to scrape his teeth over the flesh, “It felt as if hair and skin would give way any moment.”

He kept silent and brushed through his hair. It felt oddly normal to have it this short.

“I just didn’t realize,” he admitted, brushing through the strands “It may just be the only thing not constant in my life.”  

He nearly cringed at his own words, folding the towel together so Wintergreen would not get even more pissed at him.

Dick watched him with a tilted head like he was always doing when thinking and the amusement became more genuine as if he had said something incredibly absurd, which – arguably – he had.  

“Rose isn’t a constant either. Let her change and she will be your time, more than anything else will ever be.”


	9. Misconceptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support through kudos, comments, bookmarks and follower! 
> 
> It's always good to see that people actually like the story. :)

Uneventful days, nearly weeks by this point, had gone by but every time he stepped down into the basement to train with Rose his gaze was drawn to the door of the weapons room. While he had been quick to pretend that everything was normal, being down here messed with his senses more than even the man himself.

He just could not forget it.

Slade in his mouth, heady scent filling his nostrils and coating his tongue. Fingertips digging into the nape of his neck until he was ready to drift. Cum spilling down his throat, sticking to his lips and face. And the hand between his legs, the rough touch. The lick over his wound as if Slade had left it there for another purpose.

Enjoying the touch was not new. He had always felt arousal but this had been more personal. Without seeing him, Slade had always been just another body. This time he had wanted to kneel in front of him, had just wanted to forget. Down on his knees, it had been so easy to pretend, so easy to seem in control. Maybe the cause for his vivid remembrance was caused by his sexual inactivity. He had not masturbated since he slept in the same bed as Slade. 

He was stupid.

All he had done was give in because Slade always seemed so lenient, started gentle and turned into the asshole he was near the end.

He had been so willing to give in, had given more than Slade had expected. Had swallowed him down just because he could, because he had wanted to know how the girth would feel.

It made him angry that he had not thought about a condom.

He hated that Slade had not simply left him unsatisfied.

If it had at least been his sole provided service and nothing mutual, he would have been able to deal with this far better - which was a lie because choking had never felt so good.

Why the collar had not simply been his punishment he did not know. Slade was not ignorant of the effect the electricity had on him since their encounter with the aliens and Dick had no idea how he should feel about the fact that Slade had not only not used it but taken it off. It had been a way out, an admission that no was still a valid answer; just another sign that Dick had failed, that Dick should have stopped it.

The collar had stayed inactive since the aliens even during the few smaller missions they had done by now, not that Dick had given him a reason to use it. Everything had run smoothly though he was still keeping his eyes open to save who could be saved.

“Dick?” Rose asked, looking at him curiously and he blinked, attention returning to the young girl. She had wound out of the lotus position, finished with her concentration practice. All of a sudden he felt uncomfortable, expected Rose to know about his thoughts somehow.  

“Sorry. Let’s start,” he replied grinning and threw a Shinai in her direction, which was caught skilfully. She responded with her own grin when he rolled his eyes. Rose had gotten good with the bamboo sword even with her small height. It was a weapon she should know how to use, not only because Slade would expect it but also because she loved handling swords as well.

The fights were not action packed rather bland at least to the untrained eye. It was perfect for training Rose. If she had gotten one thing not from her father then it was patience. The kendo movements were supposed to give Rose a feeling for different hits. There was no point in knowing how to be fast if you could not direct the motion and differ between strength.

But he was also not inclined to train her too seriously. She was still just a child and overworking her body would not do her any good. He had experience with training the eager and could remember how often Batman had reprimanded him as a child. It was advice he had not wanted to hear then but he could appreciate it now.

After the initial weapons training, they spend more time on a light training's fight, testing the limits of her strength without trying to push them. It was not really what Slade had in mind for her training but he had stopped supervising them. And despite being sure that they - or rather he - were still being watched, he would not change the training routine until Slade would pressure him into doing so.

Dick was sure he still looked at the tapes. Hopefully, Slade did not care about how absent he grew from time to time because Rose certainly did if her frown was any indication.

“Do you miss Gotham?” asked Rose when they began taking care of the weapons, the most important skill was to know your equipment after all. Dick could not say yes and neither could he say no. He kind of did but this was not the longest he had ever been away and by now he was mostly in Blüdhaven, keeping his distance.

“A bit but I miss my team more,” he said while taking a gun apart.

Rose nodded, watching his movements to mimic them.

“What about you? Do you miss Adeline?”  

Rose scrunched up her face in thought while Dick wondered why he had started the topic again. He had not really meant to ask. The words had just escaped him. She shook her head.

“I know I will see her soon, so I don’t miss her and,” she said, then, much quieter and with her eyes glued to her gun in bashfulness, she added, “I have you.”

Dick halted in surprise and then shook his head, an unbelieving laugh escaping him. How had he even gotten her on his side? His fifteen-year-old-self had been premature but how had he made  _this_  impression?  

“What about Joey?”

He had not dared to ask questions concerning the other side of the family with Slade around and after the warnings, he had been hesitant to bring them up again, not sure how Rose would react. Slade could have told her anything, could have even forbidden her from talking about certain things but now that he had started he had no reason to stop.

“Not really” Rose mumbled and then smiled as if she had waited to say the next words since she had returned, “He drew me a picture.”

Joey had always loved art. It was the one practice that showed who he really was and how much determination was hidden behind the self-conscious and shy behavior. He was so unlike Rose and Grant, who both drove to receive the full approval of their father. Maybe Adeline had left Slade behind because of him.  

“That’s great. What did he draw for you?”

“My mommy,” Rose said lightly. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Rose was not Adeline’s daughter, despite the clear racial difference, and that she had lost her mother so soon. Slade had given Rose a picture of her but as far as he knew there was nothing else left.

“Do you miss her?” Dick asked and the young girl hesitated.

“I don’t think so,” she said, looking helplessly down at one gun piece and Dick silently pointed out where to put it, “I barely remember her but I—I know she was strong. Knowing that gives me strength as well.”

Dick wondered if Rose wanted a mother, someone who was always there. But he also knew he had not missed a mother either. His mother? Sure, but not the idea of having one.  

“Adeline is your mother now, I guess” he mused quietly, not meaning to fish for an answer.

“Addie is my aunt,” Rose said smiling and her eyes light up when she said her name. Perhaps the strong woman really had a chance to get Rose out of the clutches of her father. “I don’t need another mommy. I have Daddy. he is enough.”

Or not. He had never thought she would take sides so completely.

“Are you sure?” he asked thoughtfully, keeping his face neutral by pure force.

“Positive,” Rose said giggling and clicked the gun together with a triumphant smile.  

“What if he marries again?” Dick asked casually. Was this only about formalities or was Rose talking about her real relationships?

She frowned at him.

“He won’t. You know that,” she said revoltingly and it was such a childish reaction that Dick nearly laughed but he kept it in because she was not yet finished and he did not want to discourage her, “I mean I am not opposed to it completely if he finds the right person.”

It was a rather diplomatic answer but expected. She obviously wanted her father to be happy.

“But,” she hesitated, pursing her lips, “I would rather get another father.”

“Really?” he asked interested because he had not thought about the possibility, which was stupid because Slade was obviously attracted to men as well.

She nodded, smiling secretive but did not speak further.

“Because of Wintergreen?” he tried, his interest woken. The older man was the only other constant in her life and they were the same age, had a rich history together though as nothing more but friends as far as he knew.

Rose looked at him strangely; scratch strangely, as if he was out of his mind.

“What?” he asked and did not get an answer. Maybe she did not have someone specific in mind? He stood up when Rose kept on looking at him, deciding it would be better to continue their training. Improving her agility would do her good.

“Daddy does not often let me alone with anyone,” Rose suddenly said and Dick glanced back at her in question. “Only you are not already part of the family.”

Dick froze, staring at her.

“I am—We have only seen each other three times, Rose” he responded, trying to make her see reason while he refused to understand the implication, “And, you know, should I not be—if anything, your brother? Like Joey?”

Rose looked at him with something Dick could only describe as exaggerated and the young girl suddenly looked older than he had ever seen her. 

“You are sleeping in the same bed, Dick.”

She had a point. How was he supposed to explain this? What had he gotten himself into? Did Slade know about this?

He swallowed his nervousness down and lay his hand on Rose’s shoulder before she could stand up to join him.

“Rose,” he said hesitantly when the big eyes looked up at him because he had no idea what he should tell her, “I can’t be that important to you.”

Rose looked away with a frown on her face, shoulders slumping. Her legs began swinging, fingers curling together.

“But you always remember my birthday,” she began, hands clasping together between her knees, “And you wrote me for the holidays, and you cut my hair, Daddy even cooked and you train me and I don’t want you to go again!"

A scowl appeared on her face. 

"What about those secret messages I left? You haven’t found all of them yet! You can’t go before you find them! I won’t let you! This isn’t fair!”

Dick kept silent as Rose flicked her finger against his chest, tears glimmering in her stormy eyes even though her mouth was set into an angry line. 

“I’m sorry, Rose,” he said quietly. Had she grown so attached because she barely saw other people? It could not be healthy to be so isolated.

“I am flattered that you care so much for me because I care for you as well but you have to understand that your father and I” he stopped and rubbed his eyes, sighing. What was he even doing? He tugged her closer, chin on her head, “We are allies, nothing more and not even that most of the time.”

Rose said nothing and he stayed silent as well, gazing at the wall with his thoughts in disarray. Should he tell Slade? Did he suspect? What about Wintergreen?  _What about_  Adeline? God, if Rose told Joey…

The young girl moved and he let her out of the embrace, watching her blink the tears away. None had fallen. She was used to holding her emotions back. The realization made Dick scream internally.

“Ok,” she said, tiny nails pricking into the skin of his arm, “But you will stay, right?”

This was ripping at his heart and he nodded, tousling through her hair until she smiled again.

They stayed clear of the topic for the rest of the day but Slade and Wintergreen still noticed that Rose was less energetic than normal. Dick told them nothing, it was hard enough to look at Slade. 

Thankfully the uneasy dinner went by quickly and for once Rose disappeared into her room instantly, Slade following to step into his office while Wintergreen cleared up. For a second Dick did not know what to do without someone by his side before he gladly vanished in the living room, trying to ignore the thoughts in his head with some mindless show.

His plan did not work when not thirty minutes later Slade stood in front of him. For a second he expected that it was because of Rose and he relaxed when he heard the word mission. To his surprise, Luthor had asked for his services again. No wonder Slade was putting some of his own preferences on the backburner for the man.

They would deal with a terrorist situation, apparently to prove that Metropolis could handle the danger without the involvement of Superman. It wrung an amused smile out of the mercenary while Dick was sure the situation was set up until they found a drug lab he knew did not belong to the Light. It had all of Poison Ivy’s blueprints over it.

Thankfully being better than Superman also required them to keep their targets alive. It was always strange to see how non-lethal Slade could fight without once falling back on killing techniques or coming close. There was a coldness to him, though, that had not been present in the morning. Dick had no clue what it was. Had Slade checked the cameras to look at their training, he would have already gotten a warning or more likely a death threat. Joking about Luthor while they staked out the drug lab did not seem to help but his mood did not grow worse either.

Slade took some of the drugs with him and ignored his questioning look. Maybe it was time to push for a bit extra freedom. They had done so many missions for Luthor, Slade had to know more by now.

They finished the mission in a couple of hours, one of the only missions that did not leave them occupied for a few days and Slade vanished again the second they stepped out of the basement. While the man did not necessarily look angry his behavior was off and Dick really wanted to evade the conversation about Rose - he was sure it was about to come - as long as possible. 

Slade would not leave him off easy this time if he was skipping through the footage of their training by now. Thinking about punishment made Dick shudder though for two entirely different purposes. Electricity was still a wounded spot and the sex was still too vivid in his mind. Feeling him inside his throat had been so alien but good. He had liked the heavy weight on his tongue, the strain to his muscles and in all honesty the loss of control. 

He growled angrily, trying to think about his sweet nights with Zatanna instead, her smile, her incense smell, and her soft curves. The way she had been sweet and caring but wicked nonetheless. 

He took a midnight snack just to keep away a bit longer before he finally walked up the stairs when Wintergreen started watching him with a frown on his lips.

He was ready to be ripped into tiny pieces, this time through broken bones.    

When he walked past Rose’s door in the dark he could see that the light was still on and he slowly pushed the door open just to see Rose shivering in her bed, face pressed to her knees. He made sure that the door made a scratching sound when he entered. Rose looked up at him with tears shimmering in her reddened eyes.

“A nightmare?” Dick asked gently and Rose nodded, before today he would have sat down beside her instantly but now he was not sure. “Do you want me to come in or should I call your father?”

Rose looked at him for a long time, struggling with herself.

“You,” she mumbled, “please.”  

He sat down on her bed and Rose took his hand, pulling him closer until she could clutch onto his arm while lying down. Dick smiled softly. He liked to do the same after a nightmare.

“I’m here, Rose. You don’t have to be afraid of anything,” he said, settling down onto the floor with his side against the bed to lay his head on the cushions. Her grip tightened around his hand and he kept his eyes on her, tugging his free arm under his chin. It was not the most comfortable position but a lot better than most he usually slept in during missions and definitely better than sleeping in the cave.

“Do you want me to turn the lights out?”

Rose bit her lip, looking unsure again. He nudged her nose with his knuckles and she laughed softly.

“You don’t have to decide now.”

She nodded, closing her eyes and he kept on looking at her until he lay his head down too. It was silent for a while.

“I asked Daddy why you are here,” was mumbled against his skin, “He did not tell me. But he asked why I was sad and I told him it was because you asked after mother. I did not want to mention what we really talked about after it made you so uncomfortable. And he was--he looked so disappointed in me and then he looked at you so assessing as if you were a target as if he was evaluating your worth, the negatives and positives of killing you. Like that deer, we once saw in the forest. And I knew I made a mistake but I could not say more. When he looks at you like that, it scares me. I hate it. And he already told me I was not allowed to stay. What if you are gone when I come back? I don’t want you to go but--then you left. And I dreamed. I dreamed--he killed you in front of me--because of me. You--You were dead and he said--he said he would do the same to Addie.”

Rose looked at him with big eyes.

"He would do it until there is no one left."

Dick swallowed to wet his dry mouth. There was no way she did not know about the feud between Adeline and her father. Now she knew he was trying to intervene too.

“Rose,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the crying girl’s head, “Rose, _shhh_. It’s alright.”

She shook her head, still sobbing into his hand and looked up at him with snot running down her tiny nose.

“No, it’s not! You just crumbled to the floor in front of me but you were still breathing and he--he made me do it, Dick. I--”

“ _Rose._  Stop,” he said firmly, cradling the girl in his arms again, letting her cry on his shoulder. “Nothing happened. I’m here. He won’t kill me and he won’t kill Adeline, never her.”

Rose looked miserably up at him and he gave her a handkerchief, watching her wipe snot from her nose.

“I know they fight. I know your father and I are on different sides but he won’t kill us. You don’t have to be afraid of that.”

He was sure Slade would never kill Adeline. He had not done it after she shot him in the head after all. Dick was not as certain about his own life though.

Rose was slowly calming down again while Dick kept combing through her hair, humming a tune his mother had sung to him.

“I don’t want to lose him” Rose mumbled and he looked down at her but she did not elaborate and Dick closed his eyes in frustration, knowing who she meant.

“Can you turn the lights off?” Rose asked after a while and he nodded, clicking the switch. He pressed a kiss to her forehead after she had lain down again.

“Try to sleep,” he whispered and felt Rose nod, “I’ll stay here the whole time.”

She smiled watery against his hand.

“Thank you.”

Dick sighed with a smile playing along his lips and brushed wet strands out of her heated blotchy face.  It was easy to fall asleep to her soft breathing while she held onto his arm.

He awoke some time later to a blanket over his shoulders and he tiredly watched Slade carding a hand through her hair not unlike he had done before. His eyes shut again when his half-sleeping brain did not recognize any intermediate danger. Someone touched his shoulder. It was the same pressure Bruce always used. He answered the unspoken question, knowing it was always expected. Though he forgot what he said right afterward.


	10. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support the story is given. I hope I will get nice comments again. :)

When he blinked to awareness the pain instantly ripped through his neck and he groaned in frustration when he tilted his head. Massaging the tense muscle with his free hand was not easy if not impossible with the collar around his neck. For the first time in a long while, the thing became a real inconvenience.

He kept his eyes on Rose’ still sleeping face while he slowly tugged his hand from between her relaxed fingers. The blanket over his shoulders fell to the ground when he stood up and he looked down at it in confusion until he remembered that Slade had in fact made sure they - or better Rose - were alright.

He wondered why he had not been dragged out of the room by his hair instead before his mind, despite the headache, remembered that Rose had said mother instead of Adeline. If Slade knew that his daughter did not consider her as one he had no reason to look at the footage. Remembering Lilian Worth was still enough to explain Slade’s behavior. The second woman he had loved, the second woman who had tried to keep his child away from him. Slade had not known Rose existed until her mother had died.

Maybe it was time to be bolder. He had behaved for more than half a month and Slade was obviously starting to test how long he could keep his leash.

“I’d like some freedom in my actions,” he prompted, leaning against the kitchen counter and propping at the collar with his fingers, “I have earned that much.”

Slade scrutinized him and then let his eye drift to Rose, who was sitting on the table, happily munching her cooked egg. She soon realized, whose attention she had gathered and looked towards them curiously, though her eyes also betrayed her anxiety.

“Proof it,” Slade said and before Dick could even open his mouth to ask, what he still had to proof after he had let him kill a man, Slade silenced him with a faint narrowing of his eye.

“You gave me proof of your skill in various forms but freedom is only earned through loyalty.”

Dick was suddenly not sure if this had been a good move but backing down was not an option either.

“Well?” he said daringly, crossing his arms, “How am I supposed to show loyalty.”

He spat the word out as if it carried disease. No matter how much respect consisted between them and no matter what they would do. Slade would never have his loyalty, they both knew that. Not even justice had his full loyalty because he had given all of it away to one person and no matter how hard he had tried, it had always stayed that way.

“I could order you to take that one life you owe me.”

For a moment Dick froze, heart seeming to stop in his chest.

He could see his widened eyes reflected in the silver one even when he fought the expression down.

“Would the Bat take you back then? Would your loyalty be worth anything to him?”

Dick kept silent, body rigid and Slade smiled in satisfaction.

“It might seem as if I grow soft on you but I am still your enemy.”

Dick felt himself nod, an instinctual reaction to the urge to vigilance. Slade was right and it helped remember the circumstances.

For a moment he contemplated trying it again when they were alone but his gut told him it would be better to find a loophole now.

He stopped Slade when the mercenary turned towards the kitchen table. The white eyebrow rose and the strong muscles tensed under his lose grip, the silver eye daring him to attack. If they had been alone he would have probably taken the invitation in hopes it would make things easier. Instead, he let his fingertips trail down over his hand while he stepped closer to him. With Slade in front of him, he could thankfully not be seen by Rose anymore. He had never been happier to be smaller than the mercenary.

“And there is,” Dick whispered temptingly, gazing up at him with a tilt of his head, “nothing else, I can do?”

Something changed in Slade’s expression but Dick could not place the emotion. He only knew that he would have tried to get far away from him on a battlefield. Despite the tension, he shortly peaked over Slade’s shoulder at Rose, who had begun talking to Wintergreen and was obvious to their power struggle.

His body pressed nearer, their chests nearly touching and Dick whispered out a please for good measure, hand rising to lie down on one of the broad shoulders. His heart was speeding in his chest while he hoped Rose would be kept occupied.

Slade pondered over the question, raising a hand to his cheek and brushing over his lower lip. Dick flicked his tongue out, tasting the salt on his skin and let his hand glide down the strong upper body.

“Nearly thought you would give up,” Slade chuckled, pulling away and catching the down sliding hand in the process, “You had me worried for a second.”

Dick stared up at him, eyes only narrowing with time. Slade raised the coffee in his hand to take a sip. The other hand still had his wrist in a tight grip, thumb pressed over his pulse point.

“I have a mission for you. One you will do alone and plan alone. No killing, it was explicitly mentioned. I will set up the meeting for tomorrow. It’s your only chance to prove that I can use your skills without keeping an eye on you every second”, he said a bit louder this time. Dick bit the inside of his cheek when he felt disappointment welling up. He should not have asked about this so soon. No mention of a reward in the phrasing ever implied anything good.

They sized each other up for a moment longer but then Dick nodded, stepping back and walking past him. Wintergreen did not seem to be interested in their conversation but he saw Rose turning away pretending to have eaten altogether. He wondered what she thought. Had it fuelled her fear or did she feel strengthened in her belief that they were more?

He followed Slade up into his office after breakfast. Rose had not dared to ask about their whispered conversation but had watched them every time she had felt unsupervised.

“One of my old associates contacted me because of this mission. She knows I do not take on this sort of infiltration missions but she needs someone unassociated with the government and someone she knows will be skilled enough.”

“She?” Dick asked and Slade nodded but did not offer any information.

“You will meet her in a few hours at the outskirts of town. I do not know the details but you should expect anything.”

It would mean he could take with him whatever he wanted, which was good and bad; certainly a good way to examine his willingness to be loyal at least for this one year.

“Anything else you can tell me?” he asked because it was much less information than he had hoped for.

Slade huffed.

“Just remember that I will watch you and despite what you might think: I would not enjoy putting the collar to good use.”

Dick was not sure Slade was speaking about both the kill switch and the electricity. Nor was he convinced Slade would not enjoy using the latter against him but he remained silent instead of mockingly fishing for a concrete answer. He knew, after all, that Slade could easily demonstrate.

When he had been sent to the meeting place, an old apartment on the outskirts of the town a few hours later, he had not expected to meet Amanda Waller.

She glared at him when he slipped through the window, measuring him with her gaze. He had heard whispers about her often enough and Bruce had even warned him to never cross her path.

Amanda Waller was one of the few human beings not even Batman liked to confront. There was no data about her fighting skills but she had a sharp mind, a strong presence and was the most powerful woman in the U.S. government.

“I was assured by Wilson that you were the best candidate,” she said and he inclined his head, the woman watched the movement with suspicion but that seemed to be the fault of the blinking collar around his neck rather than something he had done because she spoke on, “You will have to infiltrate a top security prison to get to one of my men. He took the blame for someone else and is considered a threat to the government. I was blamed for his failings and am unable to see him but he still has information regarding the case he was working on. I need you to get me this information without catching any attention. If you fail I will kill you but the possibility of you escaping them if you fail is slim already.”

Dick nodded because that was the only option and then he started signing his questions, he was sure Waller would understand

“You have three days starting tomorrow,” she answered and held out a folder, “This is all the information you will need. You have to do everything else on your own. I cannot be associated with the mission.”

He nodded again, reaching for the folder but Waller did not let go.

“Since Wilson told me he would send someone in his stead I asked around. I tried to find information, a background, anything but it is as if Slade dug you out of the earth two months ago. Who are you?” asked Waller. At first he wanted to simply remain silent but then he threw her a weak smile and he shrugged with one shoulder. Her eyes narrowed further, gaze gliding down to his neck and she let go of the information.

“We are already analyzing you and I can see that you are young despite your fighting skills and the way you move is common for vigilantes.”

He knew that he would have to be careful and contacting the team had to wait a bit longer too. Thankfully even Waller had her limits. She would only try to follow his movements as long as it did not endanger the mission. So he booked a flight to a city near the prison and sat in the plane three hours later.

It was refreshing to be unsupervised after so long but Dick did not find as much of the needed sleep as he had hoped. His neck still hurt and despite the comfortable first class, the muscles did not relax.

The informant was a veteran who had been active in the military for a long time until he had started to work for the Espionage Special Forces Checkmate under Amanda Waller. He was held in prison for aiding inner anti-democratic beliefs through the black side of Checkmate but Waller had seemingly used him as a double agent. He was held in the middle wing with other former spies that had gone against the western ideology. His prison cell was number #17 and he preoccupied it with one other former spy that was only documented as BC#01470. He would have to find out who the number referred to before he could even think about taking him out.

Getting into the prison would take good timing and preparation but it was far from impossible. The real problems would arise when he was inside because he had to get the files for the unknown roommate without being spotted and then remain unnoticed until he could use the power shortage to get into the cell. He had perhaps thirty seconds before the emergency generator would start working. He really hoped there was an exit near the prison cell. Though his real problems were the air shafts. They did not follow the outline of the building in the slightest.

Dick sighed, squeezing his shoulder. He could still feel the touch, the pressure he had always associated with reassurance. Now it was a reminder that he missed Bruce more than he had ever thought he would. What he was doing felt like betrayal more and more every day. The morals and teachings he had lived by for years were slipping through his fingers. He was losing himself more the longer he stayed, caught in a web of responsibilities and lies and guilt.

He walked out of the airport to one of the caps with a duffle back over his shoulder and a scarf around his throat. There was not much he could do about the blinking collar and he was pretty sure his seat neighbor had seen it. Getting past security had at least been easy for him. He was Richard Grayson after all, first ward of Bruce Wayne.

He looked out of the window while they drove, deciding it would be best to write the letter to the team now. It was surprisingly easy to talk about his missions as if they had been holidays in other cities and he refrained from writing real information into it. The mission in Canada still lay heavy on his mind but there was nothing his team could do about it and the other contracts had mostly been government missions. His team had nothing to do with them. He still gave the letter to his driver, promising an enormous reward should he photograph the letter sliding into a mailbox one city away.

Dick bought supplies afterward, mostly food and water because once in his safe house he would not go out in civil until he was finished with the mission.

The file stated the convoy for the next prisoners would arrive sometime tomorrow but finding detailed information would be his job. At least he knew it was a truck. He nearly lost too much time before he was able to hack into their system but it granted him access to the transportation and the visitation method as well as the place of the power generator.

The truck was stationed on another location altogether and if he wanted to get in he had to arrive there exactly after the last check-up and before the truck would start its journey.

Thankfully the generator was not in the vicinity of the prison as well and less protected, probably because no one would associate it with the institution it powered and that was always an advantage.

He found himself on the property an hour after finishing his plan.

His heart was racing when his collar begun to sizzle with energy while he reached under the container. He was not afraid of pain, had experienced it often enough. And still, it frightened him.

The fear crawling through his body every time he felt that spark was unreal to him. He should not be afraid, well, maybe now he should be. His body would malfunction like the power supply should he touch the wrong cord.

He did not, stood up with shaking hands that slowly balled to fists. For a short second, all he wanted to do was get the collar off, rip at it until it gave way. He caught himself before he could do something stupid.

The rest of the night was spent memorizing the outline of the building over the course of the night, sleeping for a few minutes after every round before early morning rose. His neck was still bothering him, his newly acquired fear too. The seconds he nearly fell asleep for real, he wondered if Slade had timed an impulse into the collar that gave off small electric sparks every few minutes.

He checked his equipment when he realized sleep would not come.


	11. Lonesome

He could hear the guards talking while they ushered the prisoner in the car and Dick knew it would take hours until he would be able to leave his place again. The magnets had connected to the truck and his hands and feet were placed securely in the loops to keep him above the ground. He only hoped they would take the traditional routes.

They drove for three hours, a few other security men joining and Dick could hear the clunking above. Sometimes one of the police dogs lay down on the ground and seemed to watch him but he had made sure there would be no smell on him and he did not move from his position as if he was there by design.

The guards at the check point did not realize anything either and he let himself fall to the ground when the vehicle finally stopped at its destination. The magnets would self-destruct in a few hours, only leaving black spots behind. He crawled to the front and watched the guards while searching for coverage and he had luck because another truck was parked not far away. He rolled under it when no one was looking and remained there for hours until darkness broke in.

If possible he felt even worse when he was finally able to get out of his hiding spot to disappear into the laundry room to crawl up the cloths chute. No prisoner was walking around at night and there were no bad surprises awaiting him. He kept still on the ground when guards walked past him, looking up at the big air duct. They only opened in the corridors and only once a floor, which would not necessarily help to get into the cell, but would still help him reach the bureau in relative comfort.  

He settled down near the exit closest to the bureau and looked through the milky glass of the door. A silhouette was standing behind it and he crawled further, stopping when he thought he was over it and connected an ear piece to the metallic surface and into his ear. He could make out two voices, both angry but not talking about anything interesting to him.

One of them was a doctor the other one the female office worker. He lay down with a quiet sigh and pushed glucose between his lips, the only food he had taken with him. Tiredness was creeping through his bones. He had been lying around ready to dash instead of getting a shut eye but it was never good to sleep under a cover that could drive away. He also took a sip of water. The dust and the hours without water had dried his throat out. He would have to wait for a shift change anyway.

The doctor finally left the place after another half an hour and Dick looked onto his wrist watch. One hour to go, he closed his eyes but it became clear that he would fall asleep if he dared to relax and instead started to listen in on the woman. He frowned when he heard a muffled cry and something meeting the wall.

“Damn it,” she hissed, “As if anyone would care for them. He is the only dimwit who does.”

Dick did not really like what he was hearing but he would not be able to investigate. Seemed as if he had to write another letter to his team and possibly even Leslie.

When she finally left Dick slid down the duct with ease, slipping quietly into the room. He looked around for the files but they were sorted by name and not by prisoner number. Starting the PC, he searched for the prisoner number instead. There was nothing about BC, even when he tried the reverse number the system only found another prisoner all together and exchanging the last two numbers did not bring him closer to his goal either

An uncomfortable feeling made his stomach drop but he shook his head. Amanda Waller would not have given the information to him if there was no prisoner with the informant at all. He searched for the initials BC instead.

No prisoner had them but a guard and he let out a quiet snarl.

How could he have been so blind? 147 was the code for undercover cops but he had already seen Bryan Collins as one of the guards walking around. Someone else was in there with the informant and Dick had to make sure not to be noticed by him somehow.

Just when he wanted to move again he heard footsteps. He pulled the plug of the computer and backed away against the window, opening it silently. Hiding under the desk was never a good idea, thankfully the person walked past and Dick let out a sigh, closing the window again and stepping towards the door. He opened it until he could peek through while pressed to the wall. A guard was doing his rounds, looking up into the air duct and Dick gritted his teeth.

Should he try another or should he wait? Had he even that much time?

A shadow suddenly hushed past and before Dick could even fully comprehend that something had passed him, the cloaked figure sliced through the guard as if no bone stood in its path. Dick stared in horror for a second before his training kicked in and he moved out of the window, not a second too late.

The door opened, clacking against the wall and the shadow rolled the chair away, smashing it against the paper files.

There was someone here with him who could slice through humans as if it was nothing and who more than likely had the same target. It would explain why the cellmate was definitely not a criminal and a normal guard. What luck he had.

Dick was able to sneak away from the window without falling to his death. It was not wise to wait under an open window after all. He stepped into another room and silently made his way to another air duct, climbing upwards. Two days more and he would have been able to get in as a guard instead of forcing his body through the narrow tunnels.

The prison would be alarmed soon and that made his job not easier. His new target also meant that the unknown BC was at the very least a meta-human.

Dick kept above the exit, looking down to the corridor and could hear shooting soon afterward. The cloaked figure could only belong to the organization Waller had tried to take out.

Dick stayed in his hideout even when the black-clad assassin walked past him but he slightly revealed the exit, ready to drop down. He had been ready to use the power shortage to get into the cell but perhaps he could use it to get out of the prison instead. If he played this right it would become easier, if he did not it would become very easy for him to die.

The man stopped in front of the cell and Dick was ready to make his entrance when the door suddenly opened from inside, blasting into the figure who was barely able to dodge it. The man emerging was a bull, easily two or three heads larger than Dick. BC seemed to use the same steroids as Bane, his mind supplied jokingly.

Now he just had to somehow get past the two fighting people.

His opportunity came when BC rammed the assassin through another cell door and Dick moved fast into the open one, pressing to the wall and out of sight.

The veteran looked at the floor as if he had not even realized the commotion. Dick glanced at the fighting pair, the assassin trying to get away from the more and more denting wall. A loud bang went off when the guards arrived. He recognized one of them as the female office worker.

This had to go quick.

“I need to know which intel you gathered, Mr. Skinner”, he whispered, slinking down until he was kneeling in front of the near catatonic human, “AW can’t operate without them.”

The man looked at him with dead eyes and then back to the floor. Another crash was heard and Dick bit down on his lip, not daring to turn around.

“You still work for her, don’t you?” he asked softly.

The assassin was seemingly able to hold his own far better against the bull than Dick had thought and the guards had been taken out, most of them dead, the others groaning on the floor. Dick tried to ignore the gory scene, concentrating on the task.

He carefully touched the older man’s hand but the prisoner did not react. They had given him something. Perhaps they had known someone would come. Dick pulled out a poison neutralizer, injecting it in his throat and pressed a pen and a slip of paper into his hands. It did not look good for either of them but after a moment the prisoner blinked, a bit of light returning into his eyes.

“I am here because of the information. And only you can give it to me, Admiral” he said as loud as possible without alarming anyone else to his presence. Thankfully the fake-prisoner and the assassin had begun to fight without holding back now and were getting a bit further away, sadly into the direction of the duct.

His eyes skipped up to the deactivated cameras. They had really known someone was on their way. The tract was empty too.

“Write it down for me,” he encouraged, “You do not have to speak if it is easier.”

The pencil shook over the paper and Dick bit his lip, trying not to sound urgent.

“You’re not giving away secret information” he spoke softly, cradling the shacking hand in his “How about you start with a flower for your daughter? Just a few petals. Just an easy form. She'll be happy.”

After a while a number took form, nearly not recognizable through the entwined petals. The information had to be a code or coordinates. The second one made the man shake again as if it was painful to think about the information.

“And your wife would surely appreciate a heart, your son a good luck? I heard he was waiting to be accepted to Hudson University?” he asked, keeping a gentle smile on his lips while he coaxed the numbers out of the man.

The Admiral looked at him, eyes still so empty Dick felt as if he was looking into the eyes of a dead man. It hurt, ripped at his insides and made him scream in silence.

“I’ll tell them you love them,” said Dick slowly and the Admiral nodded, looking back at the floor, shaking hands locked together now that they were free of the paper snippet.

Dick wanted to get him out of here but he had no time left, would die should anyone see him. When he stepped out of the cell a gurgle resounded in the empty tracked. The Assassin was looking at him unseeing, body growing slack and the bull had his back to him. They were standing in front of the duct and Dick used the moment to swing up into the opening and was barely able to keep from revealing himself with a loud clunk.    

He felt shaken. He knew the veteran would die. They had no use for him anymore. He had been used as a decoy to get whoever the assassin had been. Bile rose in his throat, his body reacting to the situation and to the fact that he had not eaten since a day nor slept much. All he wanted to do was ball up, cry and vomit.

He got through the duct to the top of the roof and remained there, the wind soothing his mind a bit and two hours before the next shift started the power shut off while he glided from the roof over the wall to get to the other side.

He threw up into the grass but there was not much passing his lips and he stood up on shaky legs, walking away from the prison, unseen and unheard.

The moment he stepped foot into the safe house he relaxed for the first time after hours. He forced himself to eat something and drink, nearly heaving it out again. Sleep did not come easy, what he had ignored before haunting him now. Instead he kept the rest of the night on top of the roof, feeling the wind and missing being able to glide through the skyline of Gotham and Blüdhaven.

Thankfully morning came quick and with it his flight back.

He lay the paper down and Waller raised her brow at the art seemingly connected with the numbers, while he explained to her how he had found the agent and that there had been someone else trying to get to him.

She was nodding grimly but when he told her about BC every emotion was wiped from her face, her eyes thrilling into him.

“You did your job well”, she dismissed him and he signed her that if that was true she would be so kind to give his family the drawings after they had subtracted the information. She chuckled lightly but nodded, a twinkle shining in her eyes and then she sighed.  

“You are a good kid”, she said and from her, that sounded like the highest praise he could get, even when he wanted to protest that he was not a child, “I don’t know what your ties to Wilson are but I would recommend getting away from him. He is an old wolf and he won’t stop mauling the young.”

Dick really wished he could speak to her about the situation, to anyone but he knew that Waller would record his voice and find out who he was. He gestured on, telling her that he was grateful for her advice but that he had promised someone else to take care of unfinished business.

Waller smirked, probably knowing whom he was speaking about. The higher-ups of the Military knew each other, especially the women.    

“If it is like that, I simply hope we will not cross paths on opposite sides”, she said and he tilted his head as a goodbye but was stopped by her voice before he could disappear, “You are from Gotham, right?”

He barely kept his body from freezing, only smiled enigmatically and let his body fall out of the window without fear. If Waller knew anyway then there was no harm in moving, it relaxed his muscles if nothing else.  

To his surprise and relieve Slade was not standing in front of him the moment he returned and he shed his costume in the basement. He played by the rules this time and left every gadget down there before searching for the mercenary. With a look at the clock, he decided for the bedroom first but mostly because he just wanted to sleep already.

He still stepped into the room with his lips already moving, swiftly finishing his report in the strictly objective manner he had learned soon in his life. Slade nodded when he finished, stepping closer.

Dick held his breath when Slade touched the collar, fingertips brushing along his skin. There was a trickle of fear that the electricity would just be scaled to a lower currency but then he finally heard the click and sighed deeply once the collar fell from his neck, his hands rising to feel the skin. It was a bit sensitive probably because of his unusual sleeping positions in the last days. Truth to be told his neck was killing him.

“You will still wear it on missions”, Slade said as he guided his gaze up with a finger tilting his chin up. Dick did not give him an answer, trying to keep his eyes open even though the tiredness was nearly making him sway.

He nodded his affirmation and his neck cracked loudly when he tilted it to the side. Slade’s hand fell back to his side.

“Adeline will come tomorrow to get Rose. I won’t prohibit you from talking to her but no talking about our contract and nothing about Rose.”

Dick kept massaging his neck, trying to assess why it was important to leave the contract out. It was not as if Adeline could change his opinion or make him back out. Just because he knew her did not make them friends. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You would have given me that mission even if I had not asked.”

Slade smiled, a chuckle leaving his lips.

“I planned it but it was a onetime thing.”

Dick frowned, gaze flitting over the rather amused man.

“If I had given up after asking you for the first time,” he trailed off.

“I would not have given you another chance. And it will remain your only,” said Slade, raising the collar, “If you try to betray me it’s going to be back at your throat permanently. I’m not asking much of you, do I?”

Dick kept his silence. Not much was perhaps the wrong term but it was not unreasonable nor something Dick had not proposed. If he had wanted to, Slade could have given him much less freedom, could have used him much more and could have changed the rules to his liking. He wanted to ask about Adeline and if he would have seen the woman at all, had he a collar around his neck.

"You are asking for enough" Dick said, feeling a bit numb, a bit like crying. He wanted to tell him more about the mission, this time far less detached, knowing that he had not been able to stop any of those people from dying. He needed to get it out, felt as if he was bleeding on the inside.

"Oh?"

Slade tilted his head to the side, waiting. Had he gotten a phone call from Waller? Was Slade just waiting for him to break down again but to pick up the shambles this time? Dick did not really care, tried to use his tongue but it felt too heavy.

They remained silent when the door slid open.

Rose appeared in the small gap, looking hopefully at them and Dick let his gaze wander to Slade who silently looked back at him and then they both stared at the small girl in the bedroom door.

“What’s wrong, Rose?”, he asked as lightly as he could when Slade remained silent, “Do you need something?”

Rose shuffled in the door, her unsure gaze flickering to her father before anxiously settling back on him.

“Can I sleep here tonight?”

Dick frowned.

“Did you have another nightmare?” he asked but Rose shook her head.

“I just slept better when you were there,” she said and fiddled nervously with the wood of the door “and Adeline will be here tomorrow. What if you are gone when I come back?”

Dick's frown deepened and the silence expanded again, Rose looking at the floor and Slade a stoic and unmoving presence beside him.

When Rose's expression begun to fall he settled down and patted the bed with an encouraging smile. If Slade could not open his mouth to answer his daughter Dick would do what he wanted.

“Well then, come in.”

Slade did not protest and when Dick came out of the bath the two nearly looked like a normal pair of father and daughter, Rose looking curiously onto the screen of her father's smartphone.

He settled on the edge with a sigh, draining the glass of water and lay down beside them. Rose instantly clutched onto him and he was forced to settle a bit closer to the middle.

Slade did not seem to care while Dick felt unease. It was the first night he would not sleep with his back facing Slade or on the edge of the mattress and there was no escaping.

He shut his eyes. Seeing Slade was strange, he had always known he slept in bed with his enemy but he had always pretended he was alone. The ex-soldier looked so normal, less guarded with his daughter by his side.

It also felt strange to sleep on the right side after so long and so close to someone, even if he felt calm next to Rose.

The calmness did not last long. Images flickered in front of his eyes. The sliced open guards, with blood soaked bodies, body parts a few feet away and the bull breaking the small neck of the assassin between one big paw.

The prisoner would die as an innocent man, the prisoner who had already been dead when he had met him.

The smell of blood was edged into his nose, the gurgle echoed in his ears and the dead eyes haunted him, morphed into a disappointed blue he knew all too well.

He opened his eyes again, staring at the gray ceiling.  

Obviously he was the only one with sleeping problems. Rose had turned onto her stomach, facing him and a hand clutching onto his shirt. He had fallen asleep for at least a bit. Slade had one arm draped over his daughter’s shoulders. Dick closed his burning eyes again and sighed, carefully prying the small fingers off his shirt to stand up.

He wet his face with cold water, a shudder running down his back when his muscles tried to relax. His head felt ready to explode.

It was not his fault. He had had no chance to save the man or any of the guards but that did not make it better. This had been a mission for a team, for someone stronger and better. He had failed like so many times before.  

“Someone died?”

Dick frowned, looking at Slade through the mirror. There was nothing to say. People always died on those missions and the mercenary would not care either way.

“You can’t bottle it up, kid.”

Dick gritted his teeth, drying his face roughly.

“You know I’m right.”

A humourless laugh left his throat as he turned. He was tired and hungry and frustrated. Above all else he was in pain.

“And? What do you want from me?" he asked bitterly, a crooked smile on his lips, "A blow job every time someone gets killed in front of me?”

Slade huffed.

“Don’t go there, Dick. Don’t do that to yourself. You took me down your throat without encouragement.”

Dick growled; his body so tense he simply wanted to hit something but he knew exactly how an attack would end. The collar was dangling in Slade’s hand. He would charge, Slade would bring him to the ground and — _snap_ —the thing would be back on his throat again. The mission would have been in vain.

Why had he not just kept his mouth shut?

“Just leave me alone, Slade” he whispered, fingertips digging into the sink behind him.

Slade studied him for a moment longer before turning and stepping out of the bathroom.

Dick leaned back against the sink, letting his head connect with the hard and cold mirror and tried to forget. Causalities were nothing new but this was different. All of this was different.  

Instead of lying down again he stopped in front of the window, watching the faint lighter blue rise on the sky. For the first few moments it was easy to concentrate on the colours but then all he could think about was the disappointment of Bruce.

Somehow the bed was too soft, uncomfortably so but before he could stand up again his arm was grasped and he was pulled closer to the middle. He let it happen, too exhausted to protest and knowing nothing would happen with Rose between them. His arm was tugged over her shoulders and Rose hummed in her sleep snuggling closer to him, her hand tightening around his shirt as if she had never let go.

“There is nothing you could have done,” Slade said, low voice somehow soothing despite the circumstances, "You cannot prevent all death. And you do not have to. Stop believing that it’s your responsibility."    


	12. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the lovely comments! :D

He woke up to Rose shaking his shoulder and groggily blinked up at her. Rose was already dressed and grinned at him with a blinding smile, ready to start her excited chipper, until she realized how tired he still was. The dark rings under his eyes were probably even more prominent today and he had to look far from healthy, which meant exactly how he felt.

“Sorry,” she mumbled but Dick shook his head, pushing upright with a groan. Somehow his headache had gotten even worse and his neck was downright killing him. Some water would be great right about now and he was hungry.

“Daddy told me to let you sleep but Addie will be here soon and I wanted to say goodbye.”

Dick nodded and stood up, a yawn escaping his mouth that made Rose giggle when he exaggerated it. At least one of them had slept pleasantly.

“It’s alright, Rose. I'm glad you decided to wake me. I’ll be downstairs in a minute, alright?” Dick said with a genuine smile and Rose nodded but stayed on the bed, kneading her fingers. When she realized he was waiting for her to say something, she uncrossed her legs as if wanting to get up but then still decided against it.

“I don’t want to be down there if it’s just them. Wintergreen is not here. Can I go down with you?”

Dick hesitated for a moment, a strange feeling settling in his chest before nodding again.

In the bathroom he tried his best to get some life back into his body until he looked acceptable. Stepping out again to get this over with his expression fell, when he saw her holding the collar with a frown on her face that made her look even older than normal.

“Will you have to wear it again?” she asked, clutching it between her hands as if she wanted to break it. He shook his head, deciding to lie to her.

“No, and even if: Your father will not hurt me. I told you, didn’t I?”

Rose nodded hesitantly, placing it back onto the counter and jumped from the bed, taking his hand. It was clammy with sweat and her grip tightened when he hesitated to start walking. He knew there was more to her behavior but she was not ready to tell him.

Adeline was already there, a coffee in hand and sitting in front of Slade with narrowed eyes. She stood up when Rose called her name and hugged her when the girl ran towards her.

“I slept in Daddy’s bed tonight, ” said Rose, giggling.

“Did you?” Adeline asked, one eyebrow raised and Dick held his breath when he silently stepped into the room. Slade caught his gaze and Dick--Dick had no clue what he was thinking.

“Yes.” Her face was the single mirror of her delight.

“How did you accomplish that?” Adeline asked disbelief obvious and Dick nearly took a step back out of the room.

“Ah,” Rose breathed out, hesitating and sneakily looking at him. He kept silent but that seemed to make her even more unsure.

“I allowed her. She had a nightmare the other day,” he finally spoke up and Rose nodded. The smile on Adeline’s face nearly vanished when she heard his voice and when her gaze rose to him he averted his eyes.

“Thank you, Richard,” she said haltingly, clearly having trouble to speak those words and he nodded, swallowing at the sudden tension between them.

“Get your things and we are ready to go,” Adeline said with a quirk of her lips and the little girl grinned, skipping to her father and pulling him with her. The look Adeline was giving Slade could only be described as murderous and Slade was returning it with the same force. It would have hardly surprised if they had gone at each others throats in an instant. Slade squeezed his shoulder while passing him and Dick watched father and daughter vanish out of sight.

Dick knew he was being measured up and he finally met her gaze. Not wanting to hear any of it. Adeline did not bother easing into the topic.

“You have been good to my son and good to Rose. I have met you but I do not know you as good as I should,” she said firmly and he knew she was interpreting all of this wrong, “Perhaps I do not even have the right to say anything but taking advice from a veteran has helped me often enough.”

There was a beat of silence as if she was waiting for his consent to speak on.

“Whatever your contract is, it is not worth the outcome,” she stated, “Rose is safe with me.”

Dick wanted her to be right but bringing Wally back was worth it. It would be worth it even if he had to do worse things. Rose was another matter. He was not sure what to think about the whole conflict anymore. Did Rose really know what was good for her?

A weak smile settled on his face.

“I appreciate your concern. I do Adeline and if there was another way I would have taken it but there isn’t.”

He knew she thought he was a stupid young boy but he had been a vigilante for more than half his life. The fight for survival was ingrained in his body and mind as much as the drive to help others.

Adeline sighed, the struggle clear in her expression and she looked years older than before, lines visible on her face he had not seen through her tight expression.

“Take care of yourself, Richard” and it seemed as if she wanted to say more, hand twitching to squeeze his shoulder the opposite side Slade had touched only seconds ago. It never came to the gesture when her gaze drifted over his shoulder. Dick could practically feel the dominating presence behind him. He turned to father and daughter and was drawn into a hug by the tiny girl without her stopping to clutch onto the person she held most dear. He sighed in exaggerated annoyance and pressed a kiss to her head while caught in the awkward hug.

Adeline looked at them with a dark look but said nothing and Dick smiled at her with all the warmth he could muster.

“Do you mind giving Joey a greeting?” he asked and Adeline shook her head, responding with her own smile, though it was far more strained.

“He’ll be happy to hear about your wellbeing.”

The way she said it, the way she looked past him for a moment betrayed that it was a warning to Slade and Dick was not sure if he should be glad the strong woman was trying to help him or if he should try to clear things up. His current state was not the mercenaries fault after all. Slade had not known about the details of the mission and Dick had agreed to pay this way.

Rose clutched onto her father until she had to get into the car,  not wanting to leave again. For a moment she looked as if she was ready to throw a fit and in the next she just seemed to silently plead with her father to let her stay.

Dick kept at the door, leaning against the frame with his eyes close to falling shut again but he had promised to wave until they were out of sight. Meanwhile Slade looked after them as if he just waited for the car to go up in flames.

He walked back into the kitchen when they had disappeared out of sight, deciding he needed coffee before he could fall face first on the floor and never stand up again. Wintergreen might keep the tiles clean but he was sure Slade would not deal with his antics.

He sighed as he closed his eyes, waiting for the coffee to brew.

His neck cracked when he tilted his head to the side. Definitely so much worse than yesterday, his headache a throbbing pain.

“I did not think such an easy mission would leave you this winded.”

Dick wanted to protest but he rather held the groan back between clenched teeth when fingertips pressed expertly into his nape, easing the kinks out with trained efficiency. A shudder trailed down his back when Slade held him steady with a hand on his chin.

The heat was driven to his cheeks in mere seconds while the pain dulled and Dick tentatively relaxed in the grasp, leaning into the touch as it grew more pleasant.

Good that Adeline did not know about this.

Slade began cradling his whole neck, brushing thumbs down between his shoulder blades.

Dick licked his lips. Good that nobody knew.

“I told Luthor about the leak of information.”

Dick ripped his eyes open, wincing from the brightness. A warning squeeze to his neck kept him facing the brewed hot coffee.

“Why would you do that?”

He could not quite keep the tremor out of his voice as thoughts begun to fly through his head that had everything to do with stupidity and betrayal.

“Because it’s the only way we can find the data. Luthor will hire us the second he catches them investigating.”

Dick let out a breath he had not even realized holding and his heartbeat begun to slow down again. He should have known Slade was messing with him. His word was his bond or at least Dick tried to convince himself of that every day. He pulled the finished coffee between his hands. The hand on his neck had stilled save for a thumb circling over his skin. Slade was thinking and it made him grow restless. Not seeing him, being in a vulnerable position; Dick had a problem with that.

“You said Rose is my time, then why are you trying to get her away from me?”

Dick squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

“You know why.”

“Do I?”

“There is a reason why Adeline left you with a bullet in the head.”

The hand on his nape stilled, tensing and for a second he thought his face would be smashed into the kitchen counter. Adeline and the incident were always sensitive topics.

“But you don’t know that reason,” Slade reminded, pulling his hands back. Dick used the moment to turn, having to tilt his head to look up into his eye because Slade was still so close. He only knew that it had happened because of Joey.

“No, but Rose is so dependent on you. It is obvious what Adeline is afraid of.”

“Adeline is not an angel,” Slade replied darkly and Dick looked away. Grant had been nothing more but a killing machine either and he had done it to reconcile with Slade. “And children, especially ten-year-olds depend on their parents.”

The counter pressed into his back when he crossed his arms to get a bit more space between them.

“It may be as it is but she is not the world’s most dangerous mercenary and she does not work for the Light. Her morality might not be high ground but she has more of it than you. And she does not keep her children behind bars to brainwash them.”

Slade tilted his head ever so slightly at those words while Dick held his breath, knowing exactly that this might have gone too far.

Dick leaned back instinctively when black strands were brushed behind his ear, soft touch leaving his skin tingling. His fingertips pressed into his arms when he found no way to read Slade’s intentions. They were alone and Dick had no clue if that changed anything. A hiss escaped his throat and he nearly stumbled forward the moment fingers pressed a tense spot free that exploded into white pain.

The grip on his neck stayed afterward, firm but not painful, a simple warning. He should be afraid but all he felt was relief when he did not have to carry the weight of his head.

“At least I do not keep them behind masks. You were nine when you became Robin and eight when you became his ward. How often were you allowed to be you? Only with him? With that speedster friend of yours? How many people knew you?”

Dick kept silent. They both knew he would never compare Bruce and Slade, no matter how true his words were. The mercenary chuckled, stepping back.

“The problem with you heroes is that you think you have it all figured out.”

“I could say the same about villains,” Dick shot back, though he was looking past Slade.

“Maybe,” Slade relented, the amusement clear in his voice and Dick snapped his gaze back to him, “I know you, though, Dick, so make no mistake. Don’t assume what you do not know. Guessing will kill you on the street. It will kill you while you are here.”

Because this was nothing else but the street, a mission that was screwing him in more way than one.

"Just remember, she is my daughter. The only reason I allow Adeline to meddle in this affair is because she is the mother of my sons. If you want to get out of this unscattered then don’t get into the crossfire. This is my last warning."

Dick pressed his lips together. If this was the last time they would talk about it instead of fight he had to say something even though he had no clue what he should think about the situation. All of this was blurring the lines.

“You are not a bad father,” Dick said and he had no clue where those words had come from because Slade was not a good one either, “She loves you and you love her too, it’s obvious. She did not want to leave again, is angry every time we leave for a mission but she is still scared. She is scared of doing something wrong and scared that she will lose the few people you let close to her. I get why you don’t send her to school or anywhere for that matter. You can’t let someone find her but she needs people her age. She needs friends, Slade. I had that too, I still have.”

Slade studied him for a moment and Dick bit the inside of his cheek.

"She idealizes you. Adores you," Dick frowned, "Too much."

"She adores you too much as well," Slade responded, not having to voice how he felt about the situation.

Dick watched him disappear up to his study.

He sighed and finally took his coffee and fresh bread, sitting down in the living room for once to relax into the cushions.

His neck felt a lot better now and his headache was dissolving. He rubbed his skin, trying to ignore how much he liked the attention Slade was giving him. But he missed contact even if it was only a clasp on the shoulder or shoulders bumping together. He longed for the closeness he had with Bruce and Wally and Tim. It did not help that ever since he had promised Slade control, he knew that he liked hands around his throat more than he should. The power imbalance did more to him than he ever wanted to admit. He had always known it was dangerous to let the mercenary near but he had never thought his kinks would be the reason.

He shook his head, not wanting to think about the problems. There was nothing wrong with enjoying a simple massage after his neck had tried to kill him for days, nothing wrong with hoping to be pushed back against the kitchen counter…

The room was lit brightly by the sun shining through the big window and seemed nearly vivid because Rose was more often down here than up in her room. Despite his doubts, it was still good for Rose to be with Adeline. She really needed time away from Slade.

It was not even that. She did not have to forget about his beliefs, not really; She simply had to learn about other perspectives too. If she wanted to be a mercenary, an anti-heroin or even a villainess, then he would not be able to stop her.

Sighing he curled in on himself, hoping the pain would not return if he dozed a bit in the armchair. Even if, as long as the eye circles of doom would disappear he was alright.

He surged up when something fell onto him and Slade caught the fist directed at his face easily, pinning it against the backrest in a swift motion. Dick stared up at him in shock and then at the folder in his lap, relaxing slightly when he realized there was no threat.

“You did your job well, this is your reward,” was all the man said, ignoring his reaction and letting go of his wrist. Dick watched him unsurely and then hesitantly opened it.

His eyes widened and the color drained from his face when he read the name.

It was a file about Red Hood, the anti-hero that had suddenly appeared only a few days before he had gone onto his mission. Bruce had been so uptight about him, so angry and nobody had known why. Then the name Jason Todd had simply fallen from his lips without being mentioned again, they had thought the Joker had taunted him with the former Robin’s death again.

The file proofed them wrong.

The Red Hood was Jason Todd. And Slade knew everything. From his birth to his death and where he was now. His chest tightened.

“Why? Why are you giving me this?” he asked, hands shaking. Jason was dead. This could not be. Not the Al Ghul’s. Oh god.

Slade ignored the question.

“I already memorized the file, do what you want with it.”

Dick swallowed and looked down at the papers. He stopped him with an outstretched hand before the man could walk past him and disappear again.

“Why?” he asked again, more firmly this time.

“We are going to meet him soon,” offered Slade and Dick frowned, looking down at the file, wondering what a possible mission about him could be. Red Hood had been a criminal but he would not have something to do with the Light, would he? Surely Jason – if it was Jason – would not have joined the Al Ghul’s simply because they had brought him back?

“Dick,” Slade said slowly, making sure he was listening, “we won’t kill him.”

Dick looked up at Slade in confusion, then his lips twitched upwards and he shrugged.

“Yeah, I know.”

Slade blinked at him, closed his eye and sighed, though the amusement was clear on his features soon afterward, a huff escaping him. Dick was not sure if he had ever heard him do that before and his smile formed into something more genuine.

“Don’t let your guard down, kid” Slade warned as Dick tried to keep the tears glistening in his blue eyes at bay.

Jason. It was Jason.

Dick sighed, wiping the tears away and relaxed back into the chair, staring down at the page.

He braced himself before starting to read again. Everything up to his death was true. Reading about all of the reckless Robin’s accomplishments and his tries to fit in and not fit in at the same time brought the guilt back. He should have been there but he would not be able to change the past. Even though he knew, the guilt would never leave him and it would be like a punch in the gut once he saw his brother again.

The following data made sense, the Lazarus Pit existed. Bruce had found out about them years ago and had along those years reluctantly told them. But was it really him? Had Jason emerged out of the green pit or something else? He was not sure if he wanted this for his brother. As good as it sounded: Jason had been dead for real. They had buried his body and as far as Dick knew Ra’s had never really died before using his personal fountain of youth.

The mention of the Al Ghuls left an uneasy feeling in his gut but his brother might be back and the spark of happiness could not be denied either.

He stayed in the seat even when he had read the file through, cradling the papers in his hands as if he wanted to protect the information or smother it to tell him the truth. Having found a comfortable position, he listened to the faint sounds of Wintergreen cooking. Slade was speaking to him, probably about Adeline.

He still had no idea how the relationship between the two ex-soldiers worked. Sometimes it was eerie how much the dynamic between Bruce and Alfred resembled theirs. The same distance, the same amount of care but it was still not the same. Wintergreen had never been a butler, did not have the same reservations or standards as Alfred. At least it seemed that way.

Dozing a bit was easy but he woke when the sounds stopped and decided the news would do too while the quiche was baking. He drifted in and out of sleep, sometimes falling asleep for a bit longer only hearing snippets of sentences. It was by chance that one of those scraps of conversation included a reporter talking about Emilie Akinloye which left him wide awake.

She had undergone surgery that had restored her brain functions just in time for her and her newborn to leave the hospital together. The surgery had been funded by Wayne Enterprise and Dick knew how much good Bruce did first hand but he did not believe that the wife of an aspiring businessman in Canada was anywhere on their watch list. And the surgery had been financed not a day afterwards, which meant someone had contacted Batman and it had not been him.

A head trauma but no brain damage, she had only lost a few hours of the night. And wasn’t that convenient? He thought. The baby looked healthy and while Emilie had a haunted look in her brown eyes, she still looked ready to face the world again, trying to bring the company of her husband to greater heights.

The emotions swirling through his head were too conflicting to sort out and he remained at his place, starring at the screen even when the image of the woman had long since disappeared until Wintergreen forced him to eat something.

Slade did not seem to be surprised by his mental state, probably thinking it was due to the file or perhaps he had heard the news too. Either way he did not find the courage to ask Slade about it. Obviously he had not been supposed to know and thanking him was not an option either.

Nearly through with the quiet dinner, Dick would have found awful if he had not been prisoner to his own thoughts for the past minutes or even hours, he finally spoke about the prison mission again, just not like he had wanted to last night.

“I would like to write another message to my team.”

Slade tilted his head, staring at him without a defined expression on his face.

“About the prison mission,” he clarified, realizing he had only thought that part, “I want them to look into something.”

“If you do not think it will make them suspicious,” Slade responded calmly and Dick frowned, knowing he was playing with fire. Surprisingly Slade was not the flame this time.

“I took the plane as Richard Grayson. They probably already knew I was there. It would not be surprising if I noticed something off about the prison,” he responded, his eyebrows knitting when he wondered if those words would sound believable to his own ears if, for example, Barbara had told him so.

“Alright. No tricks. Only one code.”

Dick stared at him, trying to say anything and failing. Slade continued watching him, not betraying his thoughts and slowly Dick grew concerned by the carefully constructed mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, did anyone expect to see Red Hood? ^^


	13. New Alliances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the comments and great to see that I surprised you with Red Hood. I hope everyone who has not already read this chapter on Tumblr enjoys it as well.
> 
> There most likely won't be a new chapter up tomorrow. I have just too much to do during Christmas. 
> 
> But I do hope everyone who celebrates has wonderful Christmas days! :)

Slade placed the collar around his throat again, adjusting the electricity and Dick tried not to show how much it bothered him. Tried being the operative word because the practice seemed oddly intimidate in a way it had not been before. Dick took a tiny step back the moment Slade let go and tugged at the heavy material.

The collar did not feel as restrictive as on the first day but still more than it had three days ago. Now he wished he had never asked for it to go, he had not thought about the effect it had when taken off and on again.

“This mission will be important for the contract,” said Slade when he sheathed the sword on his back, “We’ll meet a group that can help us get the things we need.”

“A group?” Dick asked, settling the mask on his face. He was scrutinized too much since the last days and Slade had grown more and more irritated since Rose was gone. The phone call a few hours ago had not helped. His irritation had only reached its peak then.  

“Yes. Red Hood came into contact with Red Arrow and they currently have the same goal. Cheshire joined them. She seems to feel bad for her sister and reconciled with her ex-lover for his quest,” Slade grasped his mask too but Dick still saw the hint of a smile before it settled into place, “It made quite the round when she did. Sports Master was not too happy about her decision.”

Dick nodded, not showing how unnerved he was. Coming into contact with Jason would be difficult. Just thinking about his little brother being alive without anyone knowing was enough for him to be angry with Bruce and scared for his brother. He had no clue what awaited him and he had not even made up his mind if he trusted the information Slade had given him.

There was always the possibility his brother would recognize him, but with Cheshire and Roy everything became only more complicated. All of them knew him and while he had not gone up against Cheshire more than a couple of times - Artemis had more than often the curtsey to fight her - she was a highly skilled martial artist honed to recognize her enemies behind every mask. The risk was high.

“Your movements have changed a bit in the last weeks. They won’t recognize you as long as we take precautions,” Slade stated, “That’s what’s on your mind, isn’t it?”

Dick nodded. Being read so easily should have worried him but Slade had always seen right through him and it took no genius to realize why he might be nervous about meeting them.

“You won’t talk. You won’t even sign unless it is important,” Slade continued, “If we should be attacked, you won’t move until I give you permission. You are a silent shadow, nothing more. Understood?”

His voice was hard but this time Dick actually got the precautions and he nodded again.

“Good boy,” said Slade and amusement was evident in his voice while Dick bared his teeth. He had been annoyed by the phrase since the beginning but he was slowly realizing why and that was far worse than being ignorant to the fact. Despite his annoyance and dangerous attraction, it still made him more aware of the circumstances and his mind wandered to the young whirlwind he was already missing.

“Did you hear from Rose?”

It slipped out of his lips without permission and he regretted it immediately. Slade halted, staring at him for a moment before resuming his activity to gather everything else they would need. Dick bit his tongue, he had known bringing her up would not be well received but now that he had started he would not be ignored. Rose had hardly looked as if she wanted to leave.

“I’m sure she wants to come back already,” he pried further.

Slade looked up at him again, fingers curling around the gun in his hand but his expression was fully obscured by the mask.

“They arrived safely. Adeline called me.”

The tone of his voice still betrayed that the conversation had not gone to his satisfaction which Dick had already guessed. He did want to ask if Slade had only spoken to Adeline without hearing from Rose or Joey directly but he did not want to irritate him further. The meeting would be stressful enough without Slade being agitated beforehand.

“That’s good.”

He should be happy that Rose was with Adeline but he really was not. Slade kept his attention on him seemingly expected more questions and Dick had to bite his tongue to keep from prying for more.

“Yeah, that’s good” Slade repeated when he finally recognized his reluctance.

With that they let the topical fall, making their way to the meeting spot in silence.

From the outside the bar looked normal, nothing fancy but not a dump either. Inside not many bothered to hide their weapons or their metahuman nature. The place was crawling with criminals and mercenaries.

The barkeeper welcomed Slade with a booming voice and a few of the guests looked up when they heard the famous name. Most of the eyes turned to Dick once they identified Deathstroke as the real one.

Dick knew he was being sized up, knew they were trying to assess if he was the weak link or strong enough to make Deathstroke even more dangerous.

He kept silent, leaning with his back against the bar beside Slade who had settled down on one of the chairs. Normally he only frequented bars like these with Batman when Bruce wanted to use his Malone persona and he stopped himself from scrunching his nose. The smell of alcohol, smoke and gun powder had always irked him.  

He crossed his arms when he noticed some of them drawing nearer. It was subtle but he was focused on the all too apparent threat.

One of the men came nearer than anyone else, hovering at the edge of his vision and Dick tried to play oblivious but his mind screamed at him in warning, his skin prickling in anticipation. It felt like hours before the man finally struck.  

He sidestepped the attack easily, knowing he was not allowed to counter. The man whipped his gun out but Dick had dodged bullets all his life, even when multiple had been fired all at once and he easily took it out of his grasp after the shot met a bottle on the stands, checking out the bullets in one fluid motion and letting them clatter to the ground.

His enemy’s eyes were slightly glazed over. The clearly drunk idiot - who was at best an amateur - raised his fists and Dick sighed gravely, looking at Slade who already had a whiskey in his hand. He tilted his head in question. His fingers prickled, the place had something that made him want to start a fight. No wonder bar brawls were so popular.  

“I’m here, you know!”

Dick frowned at his attacker and shrugged with a bored expression he was not sure could be conveyed with the mask but it made the guy more irritated.

“What is it with this one? Cat got your tongue?” he asked slyly.

“No, not a cat, not a tongue,” Slade intercepted with a warning tone, the silver eye on his attacker, “but his vocal cords were not needed to follow orders.”

Dick tilted his head downwards as if the words reminded him to stay in line and the man grew pale.

“If you are done humiliating yourself, step back. If not, well, perhaps you want to know if you could survive getting them cut out?”

The glass met the wood with a loud clunk when it was settled back onto the bar and the man narrowed his eyes, body tensing as if to attack but then backed away. There was something sharper in the glassy eyes now, as if all of this had just been an act and Dick squared his shoulders automatically, his head tilting. He knew how to look as if he could take on a room full of men two times bigger than him.

The eyes snapped back to him. Dick knew he was no Batman but he had learned to intimidate his enemies from the best teachers. Dinah and Diana could be ten times more fear inducing than his own mentor even with a lithe frame.  

The barkeeper chuckled and Dick already hated the sound before he saw the interested gleam in the other man’s eyes. A glass was slid in his direction but Slade grasped the drink instantly, hand flexing around it. The glass crunched; a crack running up to the rim.

“Nothing for him?” the man asked in a low and pitying voice, a lopsided grin on his lips, “You’re a cruel man, Wilson.”

The green eyes never flickered to Slade and Dick shuddered, tried to swallow down his nervousness without actually swallowing. It felt as if the man was touching him. Dick wanted to recoil.  

Slade rose to his full height.

“You do not come far in our business if you are not,” Slade responded with disinterest, hand on the counter and standing between them, “Show me the room. The three are late and if I have to wait, I will wait where nobody thinks they are a match for either of us.”

It was said loud enough to make a few heads rise but none of them were inclined to pick up a fight. Dick had seemingly made enough of an impression to be left alone while he was with Slade.

“A lot of trust in your protégé?” the barkeeper asked, smiling in Dick’s direction again. It nearly looked really.  

“I would not have to take so many drastic measures if he was mine,” Slade explained while the barkeeper wiped down the counter. Dick felt the seconds tick by, wondered why the barkeeper would make them wait. For him it felt like minutes but Slade did not grow tired of the charade so it could only be a few seconds. When the barkeeper finally stepped out behind the bar, Dick could feel his heartbeat in his throat.

The man looked like a body builder but Dick was sure those muscles had not only memorized a training regime. A bar like this did not exist without the patron being just as deadly as its customers.

The barkeeper hummed and Dick felt a cold prickle run down his body when the gleaming eyes met his again.

“A voiceless young man with a collar around his neck, what a catch,” said the barkeeper, smiling like a shark. The pair of green eyes was nothing short of ravaging him and he forced himself to keep unfazed while his skin crawled. The smile was too sweet and he had never been weight down more by the collar around his neck. Slade kept him in line through the device but he was sure the barkeeper would put a leash on it. Dick could not breathe when the man stepped closer but he hit his hand away when the asshole tried to touch him.

“Ah, feisty too.”

The smirk made Dick want to vomit.  

“He might not have been mine but he is now,” Slade warned. Dick had never been more grateful to feel his presence directly at his back. The barkeeper turned his head to Slade again, nearly reluctantly.

“And the terminator does not share,” he stated gravely, a hand settling on his chest in clear mockery.

“I do not,” Slade spoke, voice tight “Show us the room.”

The barkeeper nodded with another glance at Dick and then stepped past Slade. They followed out of the room, half the bar looking after them. Dick could deal with their gazes far better. Slade opened the door without saying a word, keeping his body between the barkeeper and him. Dick walked by without looking back.

The door fell closed without another exchange of words and Dick could still feel the look burning into the back of his neck. He leaned into the touch Slade offered even though it should make him just as sick. A deep breath escaped his lungs.

 _Holy shit._  

“We might have to fight,” said Slade, the hand on his waist disappearing when the man settled down into the armchair. Slade did not let him out of his sight and Dick tried to convince himself that everything was fine.  

Dick looked away, noticed the couch meant for the others and flickered his gaze back when Slade placed his mask on the table.

“Why?” he asked after a moment, shaking the feeling of wrongness off of him. Slade quirked an eyebrow, tilting his head back.

“Jefferson should understand a no when he hears it but if a fight breaks out everyone will join.”

Dick leaned against the backside of the chair, looking at the door to get into a straight position behind him before the others could see him be too casual.

“That’s why I was not supposed to attack?”

Slade nodded, looking him over carefully his arm hooked around the back of the armchair. His gaze stayed attached to the hand, wondered if it would be too obvious if he shifted so the fingers would brush against his leg. He did not have to wonder long when Slade touched his knee.

Maybe his fear was more evident than he had thought. Maybe Slade just knew how he looked when he wanted touch, wanted attention. And wasn’t that just fucking wrong?

“We are here because of your contract, no point in fighting before we are finished here. I choose this place for a reason.”

He wanted to ask for more details but he was pretty sure the bartender had something to do with it. Slade was more than wary of him and something had been strange about him, an eerie feeling that had nothing to do with the way the hungry eyes had taken in his body.

Dick shifted, leaning away from the door to face Slade completely. The hand had disappeared but Slade still looked at him with an unwavering gaze.

“What if he had tried something?” he asked, “While he brought us here?”

“He would have died” Slade responded voice firm and casual as if it was self-evident, which it kind of was. Dick knew Slade was capable, knew that a move against him would be a move against Slade. As much as it irked him, in some way he belonged to Slade at least out here. But he had the feeling the barkeeper did not care and it would be hard to go against a meta-human if he hesitated just to wait for Slade to make up his mind.

“What if he had attacked me?“ Dick pressed on "I can’t just stand there and wait for you to make up your mind.”

He knew he was starting to panic but this was just a problem more on top of everything else. It did not help that he had never been looked at like this. He knew men and women like him, had grown up in Gotham after all but he had only ever heard how it made others feel. He knew villains and heroes who flirted, used that tactic himself, but this was different.

“You’re under my protection,” Slade told him and Dick looked down at the hand gently squeezing his arm, “Nothing will happen. I will kill him if he touches you.”  

Dick knew he should not be relieved to hear those words. The situation should not freak him out this much. He had brought the first molester to justice when he was ten and had solved the first rape case with twelve.  

“Breaking his bones would suffice.”

His tone was too flat for it to be a quip. It was something Bruce would have done, would still do.

“I have a reputation to uphold,” Slade responded with a tilt of his head and a twitch of his lips.

Dick huffed, crossing his arms and wondering if Slade would really be angry should he counter an attack directed at him. He did not get to ask when the door opened in the next moment.

Roy entered first, then Cheshire and finally Red Hood.

He swallowed thickly. Was it really Jason? Could this really be his little brother?

Slade greeted them with a nod, the mask still on the table.

Dick wanted to talk to them but he remained silent, standing motionless behind Slade like the shadow he was supposed to be. The mood in the room changed noticeably when the three saw him.

“The great Terminator needs a watchdog now,” Cheshire hummed in amusement, taking off her mask as well. Taunting Deathstroke had never seemed to be a good idea but she had never acted particularly sane.

“Why is he wearing an inhibitor collar?” asked Roy, irritation creeping into his voice and Dick fought a smile down. Roy could try getting away as often as he wanted but he would always remain a hero at heart.

“He is not docile,” responded Slade drily and Roy even took a threatening step forward, his hands squeezing his bow tightly.

“Even a wild dog does not wear an execution collar around his neck,” said Red Hood with a dark growl to his voice, stepping forward as well. The young vigilante had grown to be a few centimeters bigger than Dick with broader shoulders and his voice sounded different. If Dick had met him on the streets he would have never believed him to be seventeen or eighteen.  

Could Jason have changed so much so fast? What had death done to him?

“Boys,” Cheshire said, rolling her eyes and playing the voice of reason, “You are no heroes anymore. You get that, do you?”

Both send her a glare and she held her hands up with a sigh. She was trying to turn them into ridicule to ease the tension but Dick knew she would only make it worse.

“You really grouped up with idiots.”

Cheshire laughed at Slade’s words, settling down on the couch.

“Should have searched for one like yours,” she said in appreciation and Dick slightly tipped his head, deciding to participate in the game. She smirked at him. “Yeah, I like him already.”

The other two joined Cheshire a bit more unwillingly on the couch and Red Hood pulled off his mask. Bluish-green eyes greeted him and it was hard to breathe for a moment. His little brother’s eyes, definitely. It hurt to see them, to see him. The white streak and the harsh features made it impossible to see the young second Robin in this man but it was him and Dick was glad he would not need to talk. The lump in his throat would not have let him speak anyway.  

“We are here because we apparently have the same goal,” said Roy all business and Dick could feel his eyes on him for a second, “Why?”

Slade huffed.

“It would be easy to know if you had done your research correctly,” Slade said and looked back at him. Dick tried not to tense. Slade would not tell them, would he?

“Don’t play games. We want the same thing. Tell us why,” said Jason with narrowed eyes and there was so much anger in them that Dick did not know the origin of. He wondered why his brother was involved. He had never actually favored Wally.

“In reality we do not want the same thing”, Slade said mused, “You want Kid Flash.”

Roy narrowed his eyes under the mask, only he knew that Dick had stayed in contact with Deathstroke throughout the years. He had never told the team or his family how good he really knew the mercenary, only a few of them even knew about his connection to the dangerous man at all.

Slade knew that too. Once Roy and Dick had confronted him alone while their mentors had been preoccupied, Slade had still gone easy on them all those years ago.

“I want Nightwing.”

Jason tensed the same moment an arrow whizzed millimetres past Slade.  

“Fuck you,” Roy hurled out and Dick was shocked to get such an immediate reaction.

“If you do anything to him,” he threatened with gritted teeth, “If you have done anything to him, I will kill you.”

Dick knew Roy was serious and it worried him as much as it made him feel thankful for the protectiveness.

“I have never done anything he did not offer or ask for. We both know I base everything on a contract and the boy is good with contracts, instinctively knows what people want” Slade said, phrasing it purposely ambiguous which made Roy even more irritated. Cheshire followed the interaction with interest and exasperation.

“It’s not his first either. I did not kill Artemis and Kaldur when I had the chance because of him.”

Cheshire pressed her lips together, the amusement shortly turning serious.

“I always wondered how they got away, never thought you had turned to justice.”

“I haven’t,” Slade said and he leaned back in the chair. It made the other three tense. “He is just very persuasive.”

Roy stared at him hatefully but kept from attacking again, they all needed each other and it would not do alienating Slade completely. Jason did not seem to care as much as Roy.    

“Nightwing would never involve himself with someone like you,” Jason said, an anger breaking through the surface that Dick had not thought to see on his brother’s face while he was trying to defend him. Red Hood had not been his family’s greatest fan in the last weeks. Even Roy seemed surprised by the outburst.

Slade hummed, amused smile in place.

“You don’t know your brother,” Slade stated, “He could kill if he would ignore that one golden rule. I still vividly remember the time he nearly snapped my neck.”

He had forgotten about that incident. It had been the first and last time he had gone in for the killing blow.

He still knew how it had felt when bone had given in under his strength; the shock, the fear but also the spark of accomplishment and power that had made him feel guilty afterwards.

“He has been born with the ability to kill like all of us. We are hunters and everyone denying that is living in a fantasy world. Of all the vigilantes reigning in Gotham you know that best,” Slade said and they knew he was right. Jason was killing too because he thought it was right, because he thought it was the solution.

“He is D-Nightwing. He would never kill,” said Jason, a sneer on his face, “Daddy Dearest would hate him if he did and the Circus Boy would not be able to life with that.”

Jason was right and wrong at the same time. Slade chuckled, a knowing look in his eyes.

“You still look up to him. The awe in your eyes might have changed to hate but you still see him as the Golden Boy you will never reach. And you can’t stand the thought that he might not be as perfect as you think. How could you hate him if he was just another failure?”

Jason gritted his teeth, eyes narrowing but he did not say more. Dick frowned behind his mask. Was that really the reason, had they really failed so much with Jason?

“Well, do we work together or not?” asked Cheshire before another conflict could arise. Roy was already opening his mouth again.  

“We do,” said Roy, voice nearly tripping with disgust, “What Nightwing does is not our business. We are here because of Kid Flash and no one else. If he wants to fall into your trap it serves him right.”

Slade did not look pleased by the phrasing and Dick tried not to over think those words.

“Nightwing contacted me a while ago and told me that Luthor had found a way to bring Kid Flash back. I was able to confirm the suspicion but for now we only know what we will need: one of the Reach MFD’s, an article accelerator, the data from Luthor as well as a way to disrupt time and space.”

“A super punch,” whispered Jason and Slade nodded. Dick looked at them in wonder. Had the punch brought Jason back to life as well? Why had the Al Ghuls found him if he had still been in Gotham? Why had Jason not come to them? Was he even their Jason?

“So we need Superboy or Superman?” asked Roy “Do we just ask them? If Nightwing is involved–at least Superman will listen to him.”

“We can’t just ask,” Slade responded, “You don’t punch through reality just like that.”

“And how are we going to make him so mad without the apocalypse?” Cheshire asked pointedly.

“Honestly, it’s pretty easy to push a hero over the edge. We kill someone or at least we make it seem like that”, mused Roy a bit too casually for Dick’s taste, though he was the only one bothered by the words, “But how do we get them alone? We can’t handle the whole League or the whole younger group while operating the MFD and the particle accelerator.”

“We will have to plan further when we have the data, who knows what conditions will have to be fulfilled. The team already knows that he collected the data. Luthor will contact me to keep it safe that’s when we get it. You can get an accelerator?”

Roy frowned but nodded.

“Atom should have something we can use but if he has not I don’t know how Luthor would be able to invent a hand sized accelerator either, which means he misdirected you or you are lying to us.”

Cheshire coughed before it came to another clash between them. Roy was even more defensive than usual and it was clear Slade would not put up with his temper much longer.

“What about the MFD? I know they were destroyed and that Luthor is probably building a new one but how long will it take?”

Besides the super punch that would probably be the biggest problem or at least he thought so until Slade answered her.

“He is building a new one but we do not need to wait for him to succeed. The Reach built more than the ones they used. I was the chief of security. I know where they are.”

Roy narrowed his eyes, smelling instant betrayal, “Why is Luthor not using them?”

Dick could appreciate the question. He had grown too accustomed to Slade holding information from him. Perhaps he should push more for answers.  

“He thinks his will be better, he didn’t even ask me,” answered Slade and it was such a Luthor-Thing to do, just because the man could not stand being second to anybody, “and he does not care for time, he just wants to bring him back some day to taunt you.”

“But he could taunt them now,” said Jason, the suspicion in his eyes clear as day.

“Believe me when I say that the League will have bigger problems than a hostage situation really soon.”

Dick bit his lip to stop from asking while everyone else was just as tense as him. Slade smiled.

“If your help is satisfying I will give you a head start soon enough. Like I told Cheshire, Justice is not my thing.”

Dick frowned, he had to find out how much Slade knew. If there was a serious threat coming their way he had to know. A bigger problem sounded far from charming.

“If justice is not your thing, then why are you helping?” Jason asked, leaning slightly forward with narrowed eyes.

“I told you, kid” Slade responded blankly. It was obvious in the way his shoulders tensed that he had no patience left to discuss anything not concerning the plan.

Jason huffed, a smirk on his lips.

“You could tell us anything you want. How did he convince you to betray the Light? As far as I know the Bat’s money is still in the vault and he would have to ease at least seventy-five percent of it to overbid the Light.”

“Someone did his homework. I am impressed,” Slade answered more clipped now and hummed as if pondering about his answer, “Your brother does not pay me with money.”

“What do you mean?” asked Roy dangerously and Dick hated that the conversation was evolving around him again. Not only because he could not contribute to his situation.  

“He is training my daughter,” said Slade flatly, clearly fed up with Roy.

“You mean you manipulated him like always,” Roy snapped back and Slade narrowed his eye, shifting in the armchair, hand descending onto the gun on his hip.

“I did not know you still cared for your heroic friends,” he replied coldly, not denying anything. Roy would not have believed him anyway but Dick found himself wishing Slade would disagree.

“Do not even try. I know how much you have influenced each other over the years. Making him kill has always been a plan of yours because you know he will come to you if he has blood on his hands! You made sure of that a long time ago” Roy growled, rage flashing in his eyes “And I know you won’t stop there. You will break him down until he thinks you are the only one who will ever accept him, just like you manipulated your own daughter to see you as the shining knight in white armour, just like you made Grant dependent of you. ”

Dick had not known Roy felt that way. Sure, there had been conflicts between them because he had kept in contact with Slade but Roy had always stayed subtle about his opinion. His mind flashed to the last condition he had accepted. Slade had not mentioned killing again and Dick had been sure to get around it but he had no clue how. It would not simply slip past Slade after he had set the condition. If he had blood on his hands before the year was over he would never be able to face them again, not his family, not his team, not Wally. Nightwing would be dead. Dick Grayson would be dead.

“You can try to change his mind,” Slade spoke darkly and it snapped Dick out of his thoughts, “You will fail.”

“Really?” Roy asked challenging, eyes bright and a toothy smile on his face, “He will listen to me. Not to you. You’re a killer. You’re a manipulator and you will always end up alienating him. I don’t know what you really want from him, what you really get from him but I will tell you this: He won’t ever kill, especially not for you. He will betray you. He will put you in prison. He will protect Rose from you. He will give her the home she deserves. Far, far away from you. That’s what Nightwing does.”    

There was such tension between them that Dick nearly thought Roy would taunt him further, signing his death. Slade looked all too ready for murder.

Dick tried not to think about all the implications while he kept his eyes on the form of Slade Wilson. Tried not to think about how he had swept the problems aside once he had seen how much Rose loved her father, once he had seen Emelie Akiloye had survived. Making your enemies feel safe until they forgot what really was at stake was a form of manipulation.            

“Alright,” Roy said after a few tense seconds, anger still evident but there was a smirk in his voice despite it, as if he had won, “We will respectively do our tasks and you won’t ever mention his name again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheshire, Roy & Jason are practically this Universes Outlaws. I played with the idea of introducing Kory but I did not want to focus on too many characters.


	14. Decisive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Unsafe and Rough Sex, under-negotiated Kinks

They left the backroom as a group despite the still existing tension. Cheshire was walking between Slade and her teammates as if she trusted neither of them to keep their cool. Dick followed behind them, eyes on the broad tense shoulders of Slade.

Roy was not wrong and if Slade's anger was anything to go by, he knew that too. It disappointed Dick much more than he would ever admit. They had to talk, though he was not sure what it would accomplish. Neither of them was ready to lay their cards on the table, Slade would never be.

Dick cringed at the thought because: Was that not exactly manipulation? Even though Dick had known it was a fact all along?

Maybe.

Roy would call him delusional but his friend did not know the circumstances.

He had come to Slade, not the other way around and Rose clung so strongly to her father because people constantly tried to rip her away from him. Dick knew he would have behaved the same had someone tried to separate him from Bruce.

But Jason had been worried too and what would Wally think if he found out? Would Bruce think it was worth it? What about the team? If they used them to access the information Luthor had, how much trust would they still have in him? Who would get hurt?

What if he had really taken the life he had promised Slade? Who would he kill? How would he be able to live with such a decision?

He could not behave like Nightwing when he was not Nightwing. Or could he? Slade belonged into prison. Rose should have a chance to choose her own way. Or had she chosen already?

Dick gritted his teeth, frustration building inside him and he hesitated in his step forward.

This was all too much too fast. So much could go wrong. He could still nullify the contract. They could wait for Luthor to finish the technology. Was there really a rush? But what if the bigger problem awaiting them would make them fail? What if Luthor would not build the alien technology once the information was gone? What if Luthor decided the effort was not worth it? What if Slade told the Light?

Dick swallowed, gazed at the veteran. Would Slade even let him go?

His step faltered.

He felt air brush his skin.

His reflexes did not fail him, his muscles tensed on their own accord when he recognized the danger. He dodged the attack, diverting the hand away from the pressure points on his neck, coming face to chest with the still rather smug barkeeper--Jefferson, Slade had called him and promptly stepped back to bring distance between them. Dick could feel anxiety rising in his body when the man did not move. His eyes were bloodshot, definitely because of his metahuman abilities. The smile on his face had too many teeth to be friendly.

He took another step back, knowing full well he looked like a cowering animal even with his back held straight and muscles coiling under his costume to react the moment he attacked again. The guests rose to attention and Dick quickly glanced at Slade. He was pissed.

Dick could tell even without seeing his face.

Because of Roy, because he had thought the barkeeper would not be stupid enough to attack them, especially not if they came out as a group.

Dick could not see this end in anything else but a massacre.

“You dare” Slade intoned, voice but a growl and the whole bar fell silent while at least a few had still talked before. Dick took another step back towards the mercenary without letting the barkeeper out of his sight.

He was fast. Dick could not evade the hand locking around his neck, the other shot past him to parade the sword. The collar pressed into his flesh while it crunched under the brute force as his hands flew up to dig his fingers into the muscular arm. The barkeeper's grin widened. Dick tried to gather air in his lungs.

The arm holding him up looked unnatural as if the veins and arteries were about to explode. No air was getting past the grip. Dick brought his hands up to dig into his fingers, trying to move them at least a millimetre and swung his leg up for a high kick before he could think about it, survival instinct kicking in.

Slade was faster, sword impaling into his head. Dick could feel Slade’s left shoulder pressing into his right, his feet dropped to the floor, one hand instinctively rising to the damaged collar.

“What did I tell you?” was growled into his ear, the hand around his waist tightening. It was raw rage, different from the cold controlled anger directed at the others. With a squishing sound, Slade pulled his sword back, the man falling to his knees and onto his face, blood flowing down and then suddenly up again.

Dick tensed when a hand manifested around his ankle.

The arm was separated in a clean cut but the flesh locked together again with a sizzle. Slade did not care, dug his heel into the hand and kicked him backward with the cap of his shoe. A sickening crack sounded through the room when the neck broke, arm dislocating but the head simply snapped back again.

The blood shot eyes settled onto him before they snapped back to Slade who was about to step forward when suddenly a shot went past them right through the head, making him fall down again. Another arrow hit him, this time an electric one and it did a far better job at keeping him down.

Dick could feel the collar react to it again and automatically stepped away from the blood, involuntarily pressing against Slade. Fingertips dug into his shoulder when Slade pulled him further away from the red liquid.

It sizzled on the floor. Acid.

“Well, I guess he is ours if we have to get the accelerator,” said Roy, smirk evident in his voice and he walked past them, locking eyes with Slade as if to provoke him even further “He will bring a good sum of money. They have been searching ages for him.”

Deathstroke did not say anything when Roy snapped an inhibitor collar around the barkeeper's neck and as if on command chairs scraped over the floor. At least ten would fight them over their prey, among them the one who had bothered them before.

Roy looked to his comrades but they did not get to defend themselves against the mob when Slade flicked his sword, blood falling off in a half circle. The hand stayed, pressing into his shoulder as if it was the only thing keeping Slade from killing everything in sight. He pushed back against the force, making sure Slade knew he would not let him charge forward without resistance.

“If someone wants to die” Slade spoke frostily, undoubtedly taking in every single one of them, “Make it quick.”  

For a while nobody moved, not even their three allies. They all knew that one wrong decision would end in Slade spilling blood. Dick did not want to see any of it but he did not dare to even twitch a muscle either. Instead he concentrated on his shoulder, concentrated on the pressure. A change of it would be the only warning, the only chance to stand in his path soon enough.

No one would die tonight.

After what felt like eternity Slade slid the sword back into its scabbard, an ominous metallic scrape vibrating through the room. Dick did not turn to look at him but he knew Slade was watching Roy even before he spoke again.

"No one takes away my prey, Harper. Count yourself lucky to be left alive."

Cheshire crossed her arms, had made no move towards the barkeeper, unlike Jason. Was this another honour code of the villains they had never tried to understand?

"Thank Nightwing,” Slade said ominously “should you ever see him again."

Roy grew rigid and Dick tried to remain unfazed though he was just as fearful as Roy. It was as if the room breathed through when Slade stepped out. He shortly gazed back, knew they would hear rumours about this soon.

The second he emerged out of the bar Slade's anger was as tranquil as ever. And Dick waited for his next move.

His gaze flittered away when the silence expanded and he took notice of the seared gloves, the raw skin underneath while Slade watched him in return. Such shallow wounds never stayed more than just a few seconds but he did not dare to reach out nor did he dare to ask why it had not healed yet.

“Next time,” Slade begun, voice coiled tight his anger more evident than in his body language, “You stay at my side, directly at my side. Understood?”

Dick nodded with his eyes back on his face and Slade gazed at him for a moment longer before turning away as if whatever had held him captive before was now indispensible.

It took an hour to get back to the house and despite the collected appearance of the mercenary, Dick had enough experience to know that underneath the surface Slade was everything but calm. The shoulders were tense, the motions more powerful than they needed to be. It was festering and Dick did not know how to feel about it.

He went the easy way out when Slade heeded him no mind, escaping into the showers, swiftly and silently. But he hesitated when his fingers found the shower knob, the other hand involuntarily curling around the sturdy material around his neck. He licked his lips. Something had cracked, knew because the sound still echoed in his ears. His fingers found no dent, though.

With a shaky exhale he stepped under the stream of water, teeth diving into his lip when his body tensed as if he expected the current to run through his body any moment. He was faster out of the room than he expected but he could feel his heart beat frantically in his chest. The water glided down his neck, hair still damp even after drying it with a towel.

It was stupid and unreasonable to react this way and despite knowing Dick could not control it. He gathered his thoughts, shaking his head, some of the black strands sticking to his face.

A deep breath escaped him before he decided to follow Slade upstairs to their bedroom. He needed it off his neck, had the constant feeling the collar might malfunction any moment.

Bracing himself he opened the door and stepped in, barely avoiding the vase which shattered against the door. It slowly closed, a dark cracked spot left behind. The flowers Rose had collected slid down, leaving a wet trail on the wood.

Dick could not move even though alarm bells were ringing in his head. Even in his rage, Slade had not used his full strength, the door would not still be standing if he had. He did not look at him, could not, really.

Slade slowly rose from the bed and walked towards him as if he was ready to throw him out by the collar of his shirt. Instead a hand settled on his cheek, fingers brushing the shell of his ear.  

"What is it?"

His words died on his tongue, unwavering gaze pinning him to the spot. The broad shoulders relaxed though the intense gaze stayed.

"Speak, kid. What do you want?" Slade demanded to know, their bodies nearly touching.

"I" Dick knew what Slade wanted, could see it on his face and maybe he had known all along, "Let me pay."

Slade tilted his head, made a huffing-humming noise and Dick met the wall with enough force to crack his skull open had there not been a hand in his hair. His arms were around Slade's neck as a tongue invaded his mouth, a hand urging his leg up to cling to the other man's waist. The grin he could feel against his skin made his spine tingle and his stomach drop.

Slade bit at his jaw, trailed kisses down his neck.

"For what? Your own pleasure?" Dick gasped as Slade palmed his cock, "Couldn't stand the thought that your little brother is a killer? That you fail to mistrust me? Is it denial, Dick? Has it always been denial that made you fall in love so often?"

Slade's gaze was dark when he pulled back, the hunger much clearer than it had ever been while the anger was guarded, lurking like a caged animal. Dick took a breath that was far too loud in the quiet room and his body twitched as Slade caressed his face.

"About what Roy said" - oh god, Dick, stop - “About Rose—what he said means nothing. He does not influence my view on all of this.”

Dick was proud that he sounded normal at the end of his sentence but his mouth run dry when Slade smiled, slowly and dangerously.

“Really?”

It was no question, not a real one and Dick stayed quiet tried to see past the danger Slade embodied so well. The hand entangled in his hair felt hot against his water cooled skin and the thumb pressing against the corner of his lips was enough for them to part anew.

“We’ll see” Slade promised, the words already spoken against his skin. His head was tilted back in a firm motion as he felt lips on his that were softer than they had every right to be. The beard was rough against in contrast while Slade made use of his open mouth. The hand was back between his legs, kneading the heated flesh as Dick tried to resist just to fail miserably.

He craned his neck as Slade nipped on his lips before following the trail of his teeth with his tongue. A smothered sound escaped his throat, more moan than Dick would ever admit.

Dick grasped at the tight shirt on his back, pressing closer and closing his eyes. He could taste the whiskey now that he concentrated, could smell the cologne Slade was predominantly wearing, woody with a hint of caramel. It was not spicy or sweet just soft, the perfect smell to lure.

A hand trailed over his chest back down his side to grab his thigh, pulling him forward until he was melting against the larger form, pressing every inch of their bodies together.

The heat between his legs grew only hotter when he could feel Slade through his jeans. His tongue curled, trying to keep the betraying sound in while Slade conquered his mouth without giving him a chance to breathe.

It was still calculation, the motions demanding and possessive but not fuelled by anger. Slade was taking the control he had promised but Dick was not giving up everything without at least a pretend fight.

He dared to trip the stronger male down onto the bed, surprised how easy it turned out to be. Their covered groins rubbed together, the heat seeping through their pants. Dick bit back the sigh, hands grasping at the blanket to keep his hips from moving. He would not try to dry hump his enemy like some desperate teenager.

Slade did not yield for long and Dick met the cushions with a gasp that was swallowed by the hungry mouth still attached to his.

Dick squeezed his waist with long legs, hands gripping the strong shoulders while Slade kept him unmoving through a hand in his hair and a warning squeeze to his ass that left prickling pain behind.

He was light headed from the lack of oxygen, allowing the swift tongue to do what it wanted while his own heartbeat thrummed in his ears. His eyes closed when Slade pulled back and he swallowed, Adam’s apple popping in his throat.

“I’m not going to be gentle,” Slade promised against his lips voice deeper than usual.

“I know,” he gasped as his pants were ripped off, nearly tearing. Rough hands stroked over the insides of his thighs, nails digging into his flesh and spreading his legs apart.

The touch was burning his skin, his cock nearly hard. Facing him was different; the self-consciousness he had felt on the very first night was back. But he knew by the swelling of his cock, by the twisting in his stomach and the way he waited with baited breath, that the vulnerability turned him on.

Dick swallowed again when he caught the dark gaze, felt the pressure of Slade's rough fingers close to his groin. His skin tingled where Slade touched, the feeling webbing over his body. His mouth was dry in anticipation. His heart sped up even more.

The fingers curled against his thigh, kept his legs open when Slade leaned forward once more. A breath escaped him when rough denim rubbed over his sensitive erection. It took all his power to keep still. Slade grinned against his lips, captured him fully with his body’s weight.

"You're quivering, Dick", Slade whispered, breath brushing his heated skin while his shorts were pulled off as well. He kept silent, nearly whimpered when fingertips pressed into the sensitive skin where thigh met trunk. He felt hot, squeezed Slade's shoulder while the older man stole his breath again.

By the time Slade pulled back Dick felt nearly drugged, his lips slick and tender.

Fingers traced along the hem of his shirt, making his stomach twitch as they brushed underneath, pulling it up over his chest.

“You are still waxing.”

Dick averted his gaze, breath elevating as he felt Slade take in his body. He had started to enjoy just taking the time to wax long months ago.

“You told me to,” he reminded in a barely audible whisper and Slade's breath fanned over the skin under his ear, the grin was sharp, teeth nipping.

“Roy would be so disappointed in you.”

The tone was low and dark, not a teasing remark but the truth. Dick gritted his teeth instead of protesting, knew it would only make it worse. The chuckle he received for his effort made him shudder.

His breath hitched when a slick finger pressed into him without warning and before he could even comprehend the sudden invasion another one was added all too soon, making him throw his head back from the pain shooting up his spine, teeth gritting and eyes squeezing shut. He grabbed the wrist between his legs in barely restrained panic.

"The contract," he gasped out, biting his lip when the fingers wiggled inside of him. Pleasure made his legs twitch while he arched, his body sending conflicting messages.

“Yes?” Slade hummed, the amusement clear in his voice, “Recite the conditions."

He stared at him with murder in his eyes though he could see his blown pupils reflected in his eye. His cock throbbed in the same rhythm as the pain in his ass.

"Don't worry, I won't tear you apart. I won't break you. Not like this."

A thumb grazed his balls in a mocking caress, making another surge of need travel through his body that made squirm. The thick fingers quickly ceased to a dull presence when he allowed his body to relax.

They were still there resting heavily in him like a promise for more, though. Never before had he felt them so prominently. It was scary and good, so good.

He wanted to bear down onto those thick fingers, push them in a bit more to feel the cruel stretch again. It would feel so good to have them move inside of him, fingering him open and rubbing against his prostate until he was reduced to a puddle of need.

He kept still, pushing the thoughts far back into his head and blinked his eyes open.

“Batman should have trained this out of you” Slade stated, rubbing at the swollen spot inside of him as if he had been able to hear his thoughts.

“Shut up” Dick replied, voice shaking as goose bumps erupted on his skin.

The rational side of his brain told him to stop while he could, the other side was busy moaning because seeing the fingers disappear between his legs seemed surreal even though he had felt them so often before.

Slade chuckled and Dick bit his lip when Slade tapped against his swollen prostate, a whiny moan escaping into the mouth pressing against his lips while a rough hand pushed the shirt further up to his chin.

“I can barely see the blue in your eyes. What if another enemy of yours finds out? They will flock to you like Jefferson did.”

Fingers sprawled over his chest and slid down his side, contouring the muscles of his twitching stomach just to lie down heavily over his heart. The next kiss was harder, bruising while the fingers curled, digging into the skin.

Fear made his body prickle, his head filled with ice.

Slade could rip him apart. The thought came sudden, made him burn in shame and want when his cock twitched, stomach twisting in a good way.

“Look at me,” Slade ordered and Dick did. His lips parted when a thumb pressed against them. Slade looked satisfied, always did when Dick reacted on instinct. He wanted to run away and spread his legs all the same.

“If only you could always listen to orders so well. Maybe I should just keep you in here instead, let you pay with your body. It would make things much easier."  

Dick stared at him, teeth baring in defiance but the growl building in his throat turned into a gasp when Slade pressed deeper into him and before he could snarl words, his head was ripped back by his hair. Slade nipped on his jaw, teeth grazed his collar bone and the shave of the beard made his skin tingle. He stared at the ceiling, breath elevating. Cock pulsing on his stomach.

His body arched when Slade pulled away, peaked nipples itching from the shave of the beard. His breath caught when the still fingers inside him moved through the change of position, involuntarily clenching around them with a groan.

“I’m not your toy,” he gritted out, though his voice was breathless.

"No?" Slade asked against his skin, nuzzling up his leg to bite into the soft tissue at the hollow of his knee. The point pulsed in pain, the bite more vicious but his cock still twitched in interest, his tongue flicking out.

"Proof it" Slade insisted, a thumb pressed against his taint.

He barred his teeth, pulled the shirt off when Slade gave him room just to bury a hand into the white hair to yank him forward, pushing his tongue between his lips. Slade let out a pleased rumble and Dick felt as if his heart was beating out of his chest. It was his try to regain control, legs tight around the strong body while his naked chest rubbed against the soft fabric of Slade’s shirt.  

His body twitched violently when Slade began scissoring the two fingers in new intent and he was left gasping into his mouth, arm shaking while he clutched onto him, fingers digging into his shoulder. His swollen prostate was brushed every other second, a tingly tease that made his body buzz in barely restrained ecstasy.

A strangled moan left him while he pressed his forehead against the strong shoulder, lips catching at his own fingers. The stretch increased, making him claw into the muscular back with his other hand, only now realizing that his leg was still trapped between their bodies.

He fell back against the cushions, another moan drawn out of him when Slade plunged his fingers deeper, bending all three of them. Dick watched with an open mouth, beats of pre-cum were gathering on his hard cock, his balls tightened. His orgasm was just out of reach.

His hand twitched but before he could touch a jolt went through him, fingers jabbing against his prostrate and his thighs convulsed, his eyes widened, a high-pitched moan leaving his throat.

"You are not going to touch yourself tonight."

Before he could think to complain his lips had been sealed, the strong man back to pressing him into the bed. Dick clawed into the clothed shoulders, whimpering when he tried to get friction through the large body blanketing his own but only felt the fingers move inside him.

They threw out with a quiet squelch; his cock strained in anticipation. The emptiness would not last long. Slade pulled him nearer by his hips.

Dick shuddered, the tip of the hardened shaft pressed against his stretched muscle, pre-cum smearing against his bare skin.

“Fuck.”

He had always wondered how it would feel without condom. Slade could neither get nor transfer disease. And he was so hard. He wanted to come stretched around him.

“Do it,” he commanded clipped, pushing down against the slick head. Large hands grabbed his hips, Slade kept watching him, looking like the predator he was.

“Do it,” he repeated, not pulling out the condom in the drawer right beside his head. Slade made no try either. "Fuck me."

The laugh escaping Slade's throat was rough, harsh, short.

They kissed again, the contact faster and more forceful than before while they sucked and nipped on each other’s lips. A tongue pried his lips apart; hands were back in his hair. The aggression rose until Dick could taste copper on the tip of his tongue, his bottom lip bleeding from a harsher bite. Slade traced the wound until it burned and pulsed.

His stomach made a little flip when Slade pulled back to lose his shirt as well and Dick knew he looked hungry even without a mirror in front of his face.

He tried to press their lips back together but Slade had other plans.

His hands were pinned over his head and Dick jolted his head, trying to evade the kiss and pull out of the grip. But Slade was good at leaving him breathless, tongue roaming in his mouth like the man owned him and the grip was strong, leaving him with no possibility but to let him do how he pleased.

He hated that he liked it, that hot breath was catching in his throat. But not even his head told him to stop, no screaming voices that sounded like Roy and Bruce echoing in his head.

“Relax” Slade whispered, though the command underneath the gentle tone was still clear as day. Dick swallowed, concentrating on the other hand that was sliding up his leg, cupping his ass instead of the one bruising his wrists.

His breath hitched when he could feel the thick flesh entering. Dick shuddered, cum dripping from his own erect cock onto his stomach. His fingers flexed while he stared into the thrilling silver, knew he looked desperate and pleading though for what he was not sure.

Slade slowly but steadily pushed forward and his body arched to ease the strain. Like always Slade felt impossible thick and large, forcing him open and filling him to the brim. Just when he dragged in a deep breath, Slade rocked forward in one powerful motion.

A tingle erupted from his ass up to his spine, so strong it nearly hurt. He barely kept the scream in; eyes on the verge of rolling back.

“Seems I was too nice,” Slade murmured darkly while his gaze roamed hungrily over him, fingers hovering over his straining cock before the hand splayed across his thigh instead, digging into his skin like claws until it turned white.

Dick was coiled tight, stomach clenched and his mouth dry.

“Please,” he begged, a trace of distress creeping into the simple word. This felt different than normal, so intense Dick was sure his body was burning.

“I’m not holding you back.”

Dick tried to say something, though he had no clue how to counter those words. Instead a gasp left his lips, pleasure shooting through his body when Slade pushed into him again, grazing the tingling point. Dick moaned so loud and long that he instinctively tried to free his hands to muffle the sound.  

"Not a chance. I want to hear you, Dick" Slade told him, the words brushing against his ear as Slade thrust forward again, a hand keeping his legs apart when he tried to pull them against his body.

He was not quite ashamed but he could not explain the feeling as anything else.

“Oh god.”

The warmth he had felt was nothing against the waves of sensation he could feel by now as Slade set a pace that was purely built up. Every hair on his body stood on edge. His thighs quivered, back tingling and prostate producing sparking pleasure while he came with a scream, mouth slack and upper body limp while everything else was twitching in ecstasy, his walls clenching. He could not think. Thoughts muddled while Slade kept sliding in and out of him, stimulating him further.

His cock was drooling, the remains of his orgasm sticking to his skin but he was still hard. Slade had stopped deep inside of him, hovering and watching. Dick shuddered, legs twitching when he did not know what to do. He felt embarrassed; scared even that of all people Slade could do this to his body and mind.

Fingers brushed through the mess he had made, the skin underneath burning from the sensation and he tried to wriggle away, the feeling so intense that his breath caught in his throat.

The fingers pushed into his pliant mouth and his cock twitched traitorously. Slade tilted his head and Dick swallowed, too much spit in his mouth. He began to tentatively move his tongue around the fingers before he begun to suck.

"You really are made for this, Grayson," Slade said, voice low, circling his hips to grind into his body and Dick groaned, mouth closing around the digits. He did not know what to say even though he wanted to.  "I should have used you more often in the last weeks," Slade commented, rubbing his fingers against his tongue before pulling them out to grab him by his hips again.

"Why didn't you?" the question came unbitten, punctuated by small gasps and Dick realized his mistake when the strong hand around his wrists twitched.

"Because I felt gracious," Slade whispered and a hand framed his cheek, brushing over his cheekbone. Dick licked his lips, lowered his gaze and followed the defined treasure trail of white hair, grasping the opportunity to look as well, now that Slade had forgotten to turn him face down.

"I told you," Slade rumbled as if he realized the redirection of his attention, teasing a nipple between his fingers in a way that made Dick feel restless, "I did not accept because of the sex."

His body arched when Slade pulled, the prickle of pain shooting through his chest. Slade rolled his hips forward. He was contemplating and Dick had no clue what he thought. All he could concentrate on was the girth of his large cock, reaching deeper with every new slide into his body. His nipple was starting to grow puffy and sensitive under the attention.

He would come again soon.

The thought was strange but he hardly realised that through the pleasure, through the heat that had started swelling in his body again.

He found his lips easily and they met each other perfectly, sliding together like key and lock. A shudder passed through his body, his hands twisted in the white hair. He blinked up at him, nipping on his lips.

"Slade," he breathed, as another thrust into him rocked his body, "Let me... touch."

His hands trailed down the strong neck, reaching the powerful shoulders. He was falling, his stomach twisting in a want and desperation he had not known he could feel for a man like him. Slade hesitated and Dick had never known indecisiveness could look so good. He used the moment, pushed his tongue between his lips with a little moan.

Instead of indulging Slade forced his head back. The thrusts had stopped and Dick did not dare move though his hips were twitching restlessly.

Slade let out a short breath, not quite a sigh not quite a huff. Dick could not think about it too long when a hand grabbed his side. His eyes fluttered shut when Slade slid out of him, moan catching on his lips and he swallowed when he was turned onto his stomach.

A thumb pushed into his twitching hot hole and Dick's hips twitched as he breathed into the pillow, legs shifting to find the used position as his fingers curled around the blanket. The tang of disappointment Dick was not proud of had no time to settle in his chest.

Breath rushed out of Dick's lungs, his eyes widened. He screamed, hands clawing into the mattress when Slade pushed into him with a harsh deep trust. His mind blanked for a short second, his hips twitching under the bruising grip, his ass was squeezed just as harshly and Slade slammed into him once again.

A strangled moan left his lips while he bit into the pillow, feeling the girth inside of him and his own hard hot cock being pressed against his stomach. His toes were curling.

"Can you play this game till the end, Dick? Do you even know what you are doing?"

An arm curled around his forehead, fingers grasping his hair and his breath was restricted by the weight of another body. Dick just tried to keep breathing while sensation after sensation was over rolling him.

"I could care less about Harper, his opinion or how much influence he has on you."

The deep growl in his voice send a shiver down his spine and he glanced at the man with half-lidded eyes, unable to respond while his cock rubbed against the blanket with every brutal thrust. Ragged breath brushed over his cheek, lips and teeth pulled on his earlobe and nipped on his jaw.

"But Jefferson was my target the second he looked at you, the second he thought he could have you like I do now. Next time Harper tries to piss me off I might just kill him. No one takes my targets from me."

His ears were filling with static, his eyes unseeing. Endorphins were running wild in his system. The pleasure was an ever expanding feeling, washing away his body. His cock had never been so hard before, his balls were churning.

“No one takes what’s mine.”

Dick gritted his teeth, body tensing. And then – just when he thought one trust more when the scream was on the tip of his tongue – Slade stopped flush against him. Dick groaned. Hot breath tickled his skin. Dick was vibrating under his skin. His cock was throbbing painfully, his stomach slick with oozing pre-cum.  

“Slade,” he pleaded with a whimper, feeling the bruising fingertips digging into his hips, “Slade, move.”

For a second he nearly expected his hips to shatter under the grip before whatever had gotten into the mercenary had passed but then the grip around his hips eased, still firm but not as painful as before. A shaky breath escaped him and he wiggled under him to get his bearing back.

Slade was looking down at him with an expression he could not place. The hand on his neck was covering the collar and only now did Dick realize how much it pressed into his skin.

He felt no fear, though, no distress for the first time in a while.  

Dick sighed in relief when the mercenary finally moved but the thrusts were slower, full of purpose instead of raw power and he relaxed into the soft bed.

Slade grazed his teeth over his shoulder, biting into meatier parts and Dick started following his touch until he was pushing back, meeting the thrusts, moaning every time he was filled the right way. The grip around his hips grew weaker with every move until the strong hands roamed over his body instead. Rough and warm.

He pressed his head further into the pillow, hands clasped together and mouth open while he moved his raised hips jerkily, Slade punctuating every motion with a sharp bite into his skin. His tongue kept failing him among all the gasps and moans Slade kept drawing out.

His cock was arching and leaking, hitting his stomach from time to time. He was so close. Just a little bit more. If Slade would just fuck him harder.

He let out a whiny frustrated moan and Slade chuckled against his shoulder.

A hand cupped his chin and an arm wound around his middle, his eyes widened when his gaze met the ceiling and he fully sunk down into his lap, the same moment Slade slammed into him. He came with a cry, arching against the smouldering sweaty body while pleasure ripped through him. Slade kept thrusting, a hand pumping his cock until it was utterly soft in his touch, white stripes clinging to his sweaty body.

He tilted his head back, mewling when Slade bit into the sensitive skin under his ear. Their lips brushed together for barely a second and Dick could feel Slade exhale against his skin before speeding his thrusts back up again.

The arm across his chest was close to restricting his breathing and a sharp bite into his shoulder made him tense in pain, around the length of him. A surprised sound escaped him when Slade came with one last violent thrust, hot liquid coating his insides. A rough shudder overtook his body, the hand on his shoulder releasing its grip. The warm breath disappeared from his skin and Slade slowly pulled out of him, letting him fall back onto the bed boneless.

Dick breathed against the pillow, heard Slade pull his pants up. The sound was filled with finality.  

Without a heated body against his, the coldness curled around his body. Semen trailed out of his used hole. The twitching was stronger than normal and Dick curled his hands into fists before he could try to sooth the muscle with his fingers.

“Slade?” he asked, still catching his breathing and barely keeping his voice from sounding as vulnerable as he felt.

He bit his lip, wincing when he remembered the wound. Requesting affection was useless. He would not try to get what he would never have, what he should not want.

Dick squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his nose into the pillow. Tears burned in his eyes. He really wished he could still feel the warmth close by, would favour being fucked again over lying here. He was pathetic.

“Did you tell Batman about Emilie Akinloye?”

It was nothing he had thought about since he had decided to keep quiet about it but now it seemed important because it was something Slade had done for him, something Slade had not needed to do, something Slade had not used to show that he could be good if he wanted to, something Slade had not used as manipulation. It was the only thing he could use to shut up the voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Roy.  

He grasped for the blanket while he waited for the answer, not daring to turn around. The fabric was fluffy between his fingertips and he breathed in slowly, tried to calm his mind. It hardly worked.

He wound his arms around his chest, tugged his legs closer and stared out of the window, a darker blue greeting him. He slowly brushed over the bite marks on his shoulder, wincing when he came to a particularly sensitive spot, undoubtedly from the last bite.

“Don’t ask questions you know the answer to.”

His fingers dug into the pulsing bruise. The burning felt good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a serious love-hate relationship with this chapter. (It's the only reason why it's a day late)
> 
> This will have a long aftermath but will ultimately influence the entire story. 
> 
> Next time: A venture into Slade’s mind.


	15. Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish all of you a happy new year! Or a great new year's eve if 2016 is not over for you yet. 
> 
> Thanks again for all the great comments. It surprised me quite a bit that everyone liked the sex scene so much. :D   
> I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

“You look less happy than I expected.”

“You are back earlier than I expected,” Slade countered and Wintergreen shrugged.

“As are you. I take it the barkeeper lives on a happy life?”

Slade sighed, walking past his long time friend.

“Did he get hurt on a mission?” asked Wintergreen when he opened the medical cabinet. 

“No.”

“Did you hurt him?”

“No.”

“Slade.”

“Maybe” he relented when he found the rash cream and went to get a glass of water for the painkillers. 

It was silent for a while though Slade knew Wintergreen was not at all pleased.

“Nothing serious. A few bruises,” he rolled the tube of rash cream between his fingers, “actually not only from me.”

He looked back up at his friend, the last part sounding like a threat even to his own ears. Wintergreen was frowning but easing out of his defensive posture.

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“I heard the scream.”

Slade did not even blink at the comment but he could still feel Dick’s lips on his, feel his body underneath him as Dick clawed into his shoulders, could feel his velvety inside squeeze around his cock. A long breath escaped him.

“He knew what he was getting into.”

“Did he?”

“Are you here to accuse me of anything, Wintergreen?” Slade demanded to know. He had enough. His patience was wearing paper thin.

“No,” Wintergreen told him, not breaking eye contact, “I’m here to remind you. You saved a life for him, Slade. I can count the people you would do that for on one hand.”

They both had to bring it up on one day. Figures.

“Then I should keep it that way,” he ended the conversation, taking the medical supplies with him.

“Adeline called, didn’t she?” Wintergreen stopped him on the stairs.

“Yes.”

“Slade, talk to me.”

He tilted his head.

“Later.”

And with that he was gone, leaving Wintergreen to his devices.

The truth was the irritation he had felt all day was still curling under his skin like an itch he could not get rid of. His mind was craving to find a real outlet, to crush bones beneath his grasp. He should have made an example out of the bar. It was too late for that now and maybe not a good idea either. Dick would have tried to stop him, had felt his muscles shift under his hand. The fallout now would have been horrible even more so if the others would have recognized him.

He pushed the door finally open, the shards of glass crunching under the door. Dick had curled up, blanket pulled tightly around him. He could practically feel Adeline staring at him in anger, whiskey eyes narrowed and jaw tense. She would have slapped him by now. They would have fought until the room was in shambles, kissing in the ruins that resembled their love. Sometimes he tried to remember if they had ever had sex that was not charged by anger. The serum had twisted his memories since she had shot him. It had bled into them, invaded them like some parasitic pest to settle a layer of rage over them. Not all memories but especially the ones he had only of her. 

Slade picked up the shards of glass, squeezing them between his fingers until the pain sparked up his arm and blood dripping past his closed fist. He breathed through, focused on the sharp feeling, listened to the soft breathing of his contract partner while he relaxed as good as he could.

His blood soaked into the carpet, glistening dark red as it dripped from his fist.

With a final sigh, he walked into the bathroom, opening his hand to let the shards clatter into the bin, washing away the blood until only his healed hand remained. He picked up a rag and filled a bowl with warm water before returning to the bedroom.

Maybe he should not have discarded him the second his orgasm had subsided but it had been the best decision, for Slade anyway.

Slade settled down onto the little bit of space, brushing through the raven hair. His eyelids twitched but he did not wake, so much for vigilance. He had the urge to slap him awake as much as he wanted to kiss him again, pleasure him until Dick forgot where he was. There was something addicting about the noises he made, about the way his body curved, about the way he felt. 

Are you really forcing him into your bed? Adeline had asked just this morning, the snarl on her lips evident in the way she had spoken.

The question had not left an impression then. He could still remember how Dick had placed his hands onto his body so surely while he whispered of payment. Slade would have never proposed this, had never thought he would ever accept bodily favors for a contract.

But with the collar under his fingertips and a tear drying on the tanned cheek, the question made him halt if nothing else. For all his defiance Dick had been afraid of the electricity ever since he had used it on him.

He carefully pulled the sturdy material off his neck and scrutinized the damage. A break was not visible but the bluish hue around Dick’s throat told him all he needed to know.

Jefferson would die, slowly and alone in agony.

It had been all too obvious how transfixed the barkeeper had been though Slade had not thought it would turn into clear hungry when revealing Dick’s apparent muteness. Jefferson had made the drink right under his nose, mixing it with a clear substance, that Slade could identify a mile away. He had nearly dragged him over the counter then and there, splattering his brain all over the wood. Despite that he had not expected him to attack while they were in a group.

Had the Light tried to challenge him? Or was Waller behind it? Maybe even Kowalski? He had heard the Justice League had intercepted in the case but Kowalski would not know that the savior of his daughter was the young man he considered brain dead. 

Pinkish red streaks showed where the collar had pressed into the skin by his handling. Dick probably had not even noticed.

He should have still taken it off, should have made sure Dick knew he had a way out. Adeline could never find out about this. She would spin nightmares around it and Rose would be the one caught in the lies. He knew his touch was a lot more wanted than the barkeepers or maybe he was just the only human being Dick could get close to at the moment.

No matter why, Dick had still wanted and pleaded and begged. Not always with words but that did not make the reaction less true. 

He slowly pulled the blanket open until the fabric fell off his shoulder to expose the irritated flesh underneath. His superior strength had gotten the better of him it seemed.

Dick let out a quiet vulnerable sound when he brushed over the most vicious bite. It was so unlike the pants of pleasure, the mewl of pure bliss that had rolled off his tongue and lips when he had come a second time. Slade had not expected his prostate to be sensitive enough for multiple orgasms just yet. 

His thumb trailed to the swollen hot lip. He had not expected, the soft barely there brush. No want, just reassurance, comfort, affection.

Slade still knew how they felt around his shaft, a delightful pleasure. He felt tempted to kiss him again, to set another bruise onto his sensitive neck. He hungered to have him again. Dick had barely used that never quiet mouth of his.

He did not act on the impulse, traced a finger over his collarbone, stopping at the bruises over his heart. It had thundered under his hand as he had taken him. Slade swallowed, reined the hunger in that easily came with the rage.

He had the boy, not them and no matter what Dick thought he would have to deal with it until the contract was done.

Dick twitched in his sleep when he applied the cream on his shoulder but did not wake. His expression was troubled by now, brows furrowed and lips parted. Slade was sure the young hero had to work through a lot. Seeing his brother had made him nervous, being the center of attention to a sexual predator had made him uneasy and Harper had surely made him doubt his decisions.

And Slade knew he had not made it better.

Dick would feel the damage for a few days every time he moved his arm or rather every time he moved, period. He knew he was on the bigger side and Dick did not have the praxis to adjust to it. If Dick had ever bottomed before, then not often.

He cleaned chest and abs with hot water, gathering up stripes of cum. Dick relaxed with a quiet sigh, shifting into a more open position. His hips were bruising, making the few love bites on his front look harmless. His gaze was shortly drawn to the sticky cum between his legs before pulling the blanket tightly around him again. 

His hand lingered on his hip before he drew away. Dick had always held his attention a little bit more than the average person but he knew what protectiveness felt like, how possessive he could be. It did not mix well with Dick’s affectionate side because the more Dick tried to be near him, the more he would take.

He brought the cloth back into the bathroom and turned off the big light with a last glance to the young hero before he walked downstairs.

Will had prepared dinner and he settled down onto the dining table, ignoring disapproving frown and for a moment they sat in silence. He had not told him why Dick was here and he was not about to discuss it anytime soon.

“How was the mission?” Will relented when he did not start talking on his own.

“Horrible” he commented, digging his fork into the meat. It was half-raw. He would have favored something bloodier.

Wintergreen sighed, pinching the back of his nose.

“I’m not asking because I really don’t want to know but for god’s sake Slade, treat him with care.“

Slade raised his eyebrow, head tilting, and Will narrowed his eyes at him.

"Do not look so patronizing even I can see how good an influence he is on Rose. It does not hurt that you let him talk back to you for whatever reason.”

“Talking back has not helped him yet” Slade reminded blankly.

“It didn’t?” Will snorted, “So you just decided to be a decent human being because of your pure golden heart and ordered me to save a pregnant woman?”

Slade could feel the metal deform in his grip, leveling a glare at his friend who smiled smugly like the bastard he was.

"I saved her because it was necessary.”

“Did you now?” Will asked, showing too many teeth with his grin as he leaned back.

Slade did not comment further, knew it to be futile.

He could have easily forced Dick to take the woman’s life or even watch her bleed out but the psyche was a tricky thing and the fierce loyalty the man had towards Batman was making it painfully easy to break his mind into tiny little pieces.

Dick Grayson had never been something else but a hero. Even the ease with which he surrounded himself with friends and family had not protected him from being practically isolated from a normal life. His friends were heroes, he knew no failure and the thing that would rip him apart was killing someone and despite all of this he had still accepted the final condition of their contract to save another life.

“Let’s talk about Adeline then.”

Slade huffed at the change of topic, a wry smile on his lips.

“It did surprise me. I always thought she forgot me the second Rose was away from me.”

“She called you because of him.”

“Obviously,” Slade stated, studied him for a moment before talking on, “Called me a bastard.”

“Nothing new there then.”

“Not really, her concern for Dick mixed faster with her everlasting anger about the affair with Lilian,” Slade told him, though it had taken a while. He should think about Joey, that Dick was a mere year older and his friend. Why the apparent information should have faced him was a mystery to him.

“It’s a wonder she loves Rose so much,” Will whispered and Slade rolled his eyes.

“Half her concern for Rose comes from harming me in the process.”

Will hummed, asking amused: “And the other half?”

“Don’t start” Slade snapped back and Wintergreen laughed, grinning wolfishly but kept silent about the matter.

Adeline loved Rose like a daughter, she really did and if he was honest with himself he had taken Rose in with the intention to place her in Adeline’s care. Then Grant had died.

“You want to take something upstairs? For him?” Will urged when he did not answer right away.

“Put it in the fridge.”

Will sighed, mumbling profanities under his breath. Slade grinned but his amusement did not last long because Dick would probably wake up disgusted by himself, guilty and shameful. He would not stomach anything.

“I haven’t seen you this thoughtful for a while.”

Slade shrugged and stood up, walking into the living room to pick up a book. Will followed.

“Rose might like him. You might see him as a wonderful companion to raise her. I might respect him,” he admitted, “by the end of the year he will still have paid his debt and it will either leave him corrupted or it will destroy him forever.”

“Ah, yes. Did you already decide whose life he should take?”

“It’ll depend on the situation. On his” he hesitated for a moment, settling down onto the couch “cooperation.”

He was not sure yet. With Red Hood’s return, they could offer their help to end the joker. Maybe Dick would even realize how good killing could feel, how happy it would make his brother. A mercy kill would probably leave Dick with less guilt, or he could find some of the horrible men he had met during his time in the army. It would give Dick quite the reality check.

There was still time to make a decision. He waited a moment, reading through the anthology’s directory to make sure Will had all the information he had wanted before he lost himself in the words.

Reading was the one thing he would actually call a hobby. While he had to do nearly anything on a professional level he could at least decide what he wanted to read, being able to speak multiple languages surely helped find material to enjoy.

One of the few things he had enjoyed in his childhood as well even though his resources had been limited. He could barely think back to a time in which he had only owned one poem because of a small white ripped out page he had found in some back alley on dirty streets, words blurred by rain. His family had not cared for literature, they had only read the newspaper and his preteen books had been just that. He did not fault them. No one cared for literature if they could hardly finance their survival. 

The white paper had been filled with The Giving Tree. He had read the poem a hundred times, still knew every line. It had formed him in a way nothing else had. His appreciation for contracts was born out of the desire to neither become the boy nor the tree.

Dick would see it quite different, would interpret the story in another way through his all to idealistic mind. He was a tree at heart while Slade had never freely been. Adeline had told him more than once that he used people like the boy used the tree. Deep down he knew but he did not like to admit it. 

Slade pushed the thought back reading on. He was a billionaire but he still found himself buying classics that had no license anymore. Edgar Allen Poe had grown on him. Most of the madness reminded him about the injection of the serum and he could re-read The Tell-Tale Heart with a sickening satisfaction.

His hearing ripped him out of the story and he tilted his head, only understanding inaudible mumbling before the first precise words were carried to his ears.

“He didn’t tell.”

He closed the book, hesitating. A nightmare, he was sure.

“Please.”

Wintergreen said nothing when he stood up, finger between the pages as a marker while he took up the stairs to his room.

Dick hardly moved in his sleep but the boy had twisted onto his back, body curving. His face was scrunched up, brows drawn together with his lips parted. The blanket had fallen off his shoulders, hand twitching beside his head. Slade placed the anthology onto his nightstand when he heard the heart beat increasing. 

His breath was elevated, his skin was clammy.

A tear slid down his cheek, his head turning, a miserable sound leaving his lips. More tears joined the lone one and the expression on his face turned to agony.

“I”, he breathed out, conflicting emotions dancing across his face before he pressed his nose into the pillow, “Wally.”

Slade reached out, brushed the tears from his heated cheeks and stroked wet dark curls out of his face.

“I really don’t know how you survived so far,” he told him earnestly. For someone who had never done a thing wrong in his life, the vigilante swam in guilt as if he had murdered thousands.

“You can’t save everyone” he reminded, brushing his knuckles against his cheek. 

Dick’s eyelids fluttered and he let out a questioning sound as he curled back together onto his side, this time facing the other side of the bed instead of the window. The blanket had slid down to his hips and his nose twitched as Slade pulled it up again. He found himself unable to stop a smile from forming on his lips. The reaction was strangely adorable.

“What am I going to do with you?”

An arm curled around his before he could think to draw it away.

“Slade,” Dick whispered against his hand, lips touching his palm and he tensed. The second he moved his hand again the grip grew stronger but he succeeded to turn it so the back of his hand grazed Dick’s skin. It would soon fall asleep if Dick did not decide to move in the next minutes. Dick pressed nearer, nuzzling against him like a satisfied cat. His face had softened.

Slade forgot his age often, was sure most people did. The blue eyes reflected a lifetime of experiences, his lips curved in sins only learned through years, white scars slicing through his bronze skin as if he had fought for decades. 

Slade closed his eyes, laying his head against the headboard. He would end this once they had the speedster back because Adeline was right. Dick was young, far too young to understand in what mess he had gotten himself.


	16. Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thank all of you for your comments!  
> Nice to see I could win someone over to take a look at classic literature and all those people wondering who Dick will have to kill… I would love to read about your guesses. ;)

He woke up with his arms wound tightly around another, nose tugged between shoulder and pillow. A ray of sunshine was meeting his closed eyes and he rolled onto his stomach with a suffering sigh, trapping the arm under his body with his face pressed against the warm skin.

Fingertips touched the inside of his thigh and he only cradled the arm closer against his chest, lips pressed against the dip created by strong muscles. He sighed when the arm moved, fingertips brushing along his stomach and his grip grew stronger again. Losing the warmth would mean he had to wake up for real but he really wanted to fall asleep again.  

“Wake up, kid.”

Dick’s eyes flew open at the deep voice and he stared into Slade’s eye with dawning horror. A shiver like ice water trailed down his back and he twitched back as Slade freed his arm, as it brushed against his chest.

He kept his gaze onto the thin space separating their bodies while he raised a hand to the bruised skin of his shoulder. His breathing elevated when the memories returned and he swallowed when he still felt the tenderness in his ass.

He slowly sat up, hand clasping over the bite marks on his shoulder while he kept his gaze away from Slade.

His whole body felt sour as if he had lost a fight on the streets and Dick swallowed the sudden urge to cry down because he had, hadn’t he?

How would he be able to look at him again after showing such weakness? Why had he even woken up like this? Why had Slade let him sleep?  

He pulled his legs out of the blanket, looking to his left and–

“I don’t need that” he spoke, staring at the glass of water and the painkillers. The comment was too fast and too unnecessary but Dick could not keep his sudden panic down.

Slade had not hurt him, he had been rough and Dick had accepted that Slade would not care, would not be there afterward – he had accepted that it was better that way because it would be too good – and now this. He could not deal with this right now.

“This is your payment. You are a contract partner. Your health is part of the conditions.”

Dick looked back at the fully awake man, his fingers squeezing the blanket.

“Usually you are a better liar.”

Slade raised an eyebrow and then shrugged.

“You had a nightmare,” he contemplated after a long moment of silence, turning the page of his book with the arm Dick had clutched onto a few seconds before. 

He wanted to lie down again and pretend that Slade was one of the good guys.

“Contact helped. You really have more in common with Rose than I thought.”

Dick did remember Jason and Wally, their anger and the changes death had done to them, how he had not been able to do anything about their deaths. Wally had told him he had been better off dead.

It seemed he had other problems in the land of reality.

Despite his initial fear to even look at the man he could not help but stare at him with wide eyes. Slade was supposed to wake him up and berate him, maybe mock him. Slade was not supposed to help him through nightmares, especially not like this.

If the mercenary would start playing with his emotions Dick had no illusion Slade would be able to do it as good as with his body.

What if Roy was right? What if Slade was manipulating him? But why would he? Why now? What would he gain? He was already at the man’s mercy every day. Did Slade know how much he had started to care, started to believe he might be more than the cold-blooded mercenary he had known for years?  

“I don’t need your kindness,” Dick snapped, though he tried to keep the sudden anger out of his voice, “And I did not tell you to stop. Hence I am fine.”  

Fine was not a word he would use for his current state though and it was impossible for Slade not to know, considering the mercenary read him like a book in every situation. His words remained uncommented as he walked to the bathroom but he could feel his gaze burning in his back, raising a prickle from the small of his back up his spine as if Slade had his hands back on him.

His hand found his throat in a gesture of nervous habit and his heart seemed slow for one beat as he realized Slade had taken the collar off while he was asleep.

It was only when the door shut with a click that he relaxed, falling against the wooden door with his hands pressed to his face. He slid down, tugged his legs closer, swallowing at the stickiness he could still feel. It was not as much as it should be and he cupped his mouth, other hand tugging at his hair.

His lip was trembling while he sat in the bath of his enemy, naked as on the day he was born only a lot less innocent. The frustration was bringing tears to his eyes.

“What have you done?” he asked himself, brushing raven locks out of his face. His gaze caught the light bruises around his wrists. They were not too tender. He had not even noticed them until now but they looked wrong on his skin.

He pulled himself back up, wiping the tear out of the corner of his eye before stepping in front of the mirror. His breath hitched at the sight, his fingers brushing over the violet bruises on his hips. It would take time for them to disappear and Dick had not expected anything else. The blue hue around his throat felt far worse to him. His shoulder ached already from the movement but he had felt stronger pain after a night out. 

What worried him more were the light bruises over his heart. One little push and Slade could have his heart in his hands. A bit more and Slade could have pierced his heart with a broken rip. He was leaving himself too vulnerable.

“It’s sex, what did you expect,” Dick whispered to himself, thumb brushing over the sensitive skin. Not this, his mind answered. 

Dick shook his head, turning to pour water into the bathtub before entering with a sigh. Raising his legs hurt a bit but he was confident he would be able to walk down the stairs normally.

His hand unconsciously followed the marks Slade had left on his skin, watching water drip from the faucet he had not properly closed. At least the scratch marks on his thighs had mostly faded.

He settled his head on his knees, touching the most prominent bite mark and closing his eyes. It felt as if Slade was still breathing over his skin. Never before had he thought pain would turn him on so much and now the feeling felt so far away as if he had only dreamed.  

His shoulder looked as if he had been mauled by an animal. Waller had used the term, an old wolf mauling the young. He was sure this had not been on her mind.

The thought made him giggle. It felt good although it sounded half-crazed.

He stared at the ceiling while the hot water around him made his muscles relax and wished Rose was here, she would have gotten him on other thoughts. But she was not and he had only problems on his mind.

Dick rubbed his eyes with a sigh. He wanted to be back in that floating space he had been in last night. Even though it would mean more bruises, more shame.

There was no doubt that Jason was Red Hood but it still felt unreal. This was not his Jason, not the one he had known and learned to love even if far too late. Would it always stay as hard to accept that he had changed? Bruce should have told them. But perhaps this was a chance. Perhaps it was better to see him from this side. Perhaps he could connect with Jason better without their clashing morality standing between them, without him having to express the guilt he felt.

Red Hood had not been too keen on any of them. He had only seen him two times rooftops away while he had been in Gotham but Tim and Barbara had spoken about his actions often enough.

It made him worried about Wally. What if bringing him back would make him different too? Would he attack Artemis after she had brought him back? What if they failed or what if Luthor’s plan would only bring back the shell of his former self? Dick had not thought about those questions first. Everyone had been focused on bringing their friend and teammate back without thinking about the consequences. They had no clue if he was in another reality, between realities or if he had been split into his atoms or molecules.  

If their efforts were worth it, would only be revealed when they had seen the data and it could take months until the team decided to attack Luthor. He did not necessary feel like confronting them either, fighting against them felt wrong. 

So many thinks could go wrong.  

And Slade, Dick just had no clue what he should do.

They had involved emotion and even after Akinloye Slade had not been angry enough to lose the coldness, the detachment. This was maybe the first time Slade had gotten what he could not have for money and Dick had never thought it would face him like this, had not thought he would feel the same passion, maybe more.

Dick shook his head. It had just been sex no matter what they had done differently. Kissing him did not mean anything. Being filled by his bare cock did not mean anything.

Or it would not have meant something if he had not wanted it so badly if he had not claimed his arm like a love sick affectionate puppy.

“Keep it together, Dick,” he growled at himself. It was not love he felt. Slade was no man he could love but it would be easier to hate him if Slade had woken him, had left the collar around his neck until he asked for it to be taken off.

He hoped Roy was wrong because if this was Slade’s form of manipulation he was already caught like a fly in a spider’s web.

He had to concentrate on the more important things. They had broken the rules. There was nothing else to it.

He finally stepped out of the bathroom in new clothes, Slade nowhere to be seen.

He chucked the painkiller down with the water, it was better to do it now than admitting the pain later, showing that he had reacted completely unreasonable. Walking was feeling more uncomfortable than he had thought.

He noticed the droplets of dried blood on the carpet, did not have to think long before he realized it had come from the shards of the broken vase. Slade surely had not cut himself accidently.

Wintergreen greeted him in the kitchen and Dick thankfully agreed to breakfast. He had not been alone with the veteran before so he sat down in silence, watching him crack eggs into the frying pan. How the relationship between Wintergreen and Slade worked was a mystery to him. As much as he could compare them to Alfred and Bruce, he could as easily find differences if he only knew them.

“Slade went out,” Wintergreen spoke up, the eggs sizzling, “He will be back no later than early morning. You will start your training tomorrow.”

“Training?” Dick asked softly, confusion mirrored on his face. Wintergreen stole a glance at him but gave no other information.

Training would be interesting, more than likely a disaster as well. But it belonged to his payment.

“Is he on a mission?”

Wintergreen only chuckled, placing toast, bacon, and eggs in front of him. He would not get an answer.

He thanked him regardless just glad to be around someone who was not Slade.

“You’re welcome,” the man replied, a gentle smile on his lips and Dick reciprocated it without thought.

Wintergreen was not much of a talker he decided or at least not with strangers and possible enemies. Normally the silence would not bother him or he would fill it with chatter of his own but it never helped when his mind was swarming with doubt and questions.

He needed to at least get out of the house even if it was bad for his cover. He needed air, he needed room.

“Am I allowed to leave the house?” he asked, encouraged by the delicious egg.

It was Wintergreen’s turn to look confused and Dick leaned back, playing nervously with his fork.

“You are not a prisoner,” Wintergreen said, grimacing at his own words just a moment later because in some way Dick was, “Did you sign specific conditions?”

Dick snorted, a grin spreading over his lips. He wished it was just that simple but it really had never been.

“No, the contract is more free spirited?” And even if: They had already broken conditions last night. Maybe he should be more worried about it because, why should they stop breaking conditions now?

Wintergreen’s face was blank but his eyes were calculating.

“Is that so?”

Dick shrugged and Wintergreen crossed his arms, leaning against the dinner table. It was no normal contract and he did not pay with money, a few of Slade’s normal rules did not apply in this case. In a way he was forcing Slade to betray the Light for the second time.

Dick pressed his lips together. It had not crossed his mind how much Slade was risking until now. Rose and Wintergreen could easily be used to threaten him.

“I guess it is” Wintergreen answered his own question, voice darker and Dick tilted his head away when he noticed where the older man’s attention lay.

“It wasn’t Slade.”

He should have tied a scarf around his throat. Though it would have been one of Slade’s and he did not need to smell his intoxicating cologne all day long.

Wintergreen hummed.

“Now I’m beginning to understand.”

Dick did not ask what he meant, knew he would not get an answer.

“If you want to take a walk you can but I won’t give you more than two hours.”

Dick huffed.

“That’s just enough,” he answered, knowing full well the time would grow less if he said anything different. The veteran seemed to be the better half of Slade and Dick dearly wanted to ask why he had stayed with Slade even after the army but knew the man would never tell him. Even Adeline was secretive about anything that connected to Slade and she had told Joey and him often enough that she understood Wintergreen even less than Slade. It had developed into a couple of funny stories. Joey had laughed a lot about them.

“Does Slade still see Joey?”

Wintergreen looked at him in surprise.

“I was not told you had contact with him.”

“He is a friend of mine,” said Dick, shrugging and then bit his lip, “He told me that the less of his voice drove the whole conflict between Adeline and Slade over the edge. That’s why I ask. He never talked much about Slade but when he did it was never with animosity.”

Wintergreen nodded thoughtfully.

“He does not see him that often.”

Adeline was seeing Rose more and that Rose was currently with her was undeniable proof. No wonder Slade reacted violently against any suggestion that involved letting Rose join her brother under Adeline’s care.

“Let me rephrase.”

Dick looked up at him in question.

“He has not seen his son in the last four years.”

Dick stared at him, letting his fork sink back onto the plate. He had not thought Adeline would be so persistent, had not believed Joey would not try to see his father despite his mother.

“He did not see him in the last four years,” Dick repeated and sighed just a moment later, running a hand through his hair.

His sourness would kill him after the walk but he had to get out of here. 

He had not taken a simple walk since ages and while he did favor rooftops it was still nice to feel the wind against his face. His nightly activities were what he missed most. Perhaps he was sleeping badly because of that as well.

It was a sunny day and his black sunglasses did not stand out when he walked through the small town. Dick wondered if some of them knew who Slade Wilson was. Had he a life here or was he just a whisper, gossip for the town?

When he had trained with him for the first time he had not gotten to see this house or Wintergreen. If this was not his real home, Dick was certain Slade had nothing he called home. It officially belonged to Wintergreen going by the name on the mailbox and as far as he knew only a hand full of people knew about the two men’s connection. Did the Light know as well? They had to. Slade was an employee.  

The forest was thankfully bordering on the town. In Gotham he only ever saw something different than houses on missions and there he was busy surviving instead of enjoying nature. Even the weekly turned monthly walks to the sea with the team had been stopped since their headquarter had been blown into pieces. Sometimes he thought he had made all the wrong decisions in one year.

He wondered if this year would turn out to be just as bad. It seemed like it.


	17. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. I'm still not satisfied with it but I will probably never be so here it is.  
> This is also the last chapter - for now - that will be published weekly on AO3.

The night had been without bad dreams but he still woke up on the wrong side of the bed and promptly wanted to smother himself in the pillow, before realizing it would make him feel worse. Not only because he could feel the gun underneath Slade's cushion.

Would it be like this from now on? Had he already fallen this deep despite everything? Part of him craved for the easy way out but it was only a flicker in his mind swallowed by his sense of duty and - most important of all - by his sanity.

His fingers traced the edge of the bed as he stared at the wall, dipping them between the bed frame and the mattress. They curled around the wooden handle and he knew what it was even before the metal glinted in the sunlight, a hunting knife. He tugged it back into its sheath, rolling onto his stomach with his hand over his eyes.

Sleeping with his enemy was one thing, sleeping at the exact spot where Slade had lain only a few moments prior another. The man would not turn a turn a blind eye on this for long - if he ever even had. Dick prided himself with the ability to sometimes know what Slade wanted but the man was in no way an open book to him. Not knowing what Slade knew or thought to be true, was a terrible feeling.

Dick sighed, sitting up, gaze wandering through the room. The window mocked him from the other side of the room and he let out a frustrated groan for good measure.

His mind tried to deny Slade’s presence in the room since last morning but he knew better. Wintergreen had put clean sheets on the bed - without asking about the night - and now it smelled like Slade again.

It reminded him of the forest and honey, a smell that lured him to sleep again, to feel comfortable in the soft cushions even though he should not.

He really wanted to stab himself with that hunting knife right now.

Dick forced his body out of bed, stretching shortly before opening the closet to take out his trainings clothes. Never before had he felt so consciously that they were Slade’s - bought by him, chosen by him, paid by him - or maybe Wintergreen had bought them instead. Dick could not imagine Slade in a shopping mall, could not imagine him as anything else but a man out for blood and money despite everything.

And herein lay the problem of all. Missing Slade entering and leaving was worrisome at best and lethal at worst. His vigilance had lessened more and more despite his doubt, despite Slade reminding him again and again that they were still enemies.  

He had in all likelihood rolled over when Slade had left – chasing the warmth, his mind unhelpfully supplied.

A growl left his lips, angry at himself for, well, for being how he was.

When he arrived downstairs no one was bustling in the kitchen so Dick took his morning coffee with him to the trainings room, biting into a premade sandwich.

Slade was cleaning his gear, the rag in his hand tinted red. The blood was just evidence for another death. He swallowed the piece down with noticeable difficulty, trying to ignore how his stomach turned.

He settled down onto the bench when Slade did not acknowledge him, keeping himself in the background while he watched him. The cleaning looked too peaceful and calming. Routine could be relaxing, he knew, but most of the calmness came from the kill.  

What had this mission been about? Who had Slade killed? A father? A mother? A child?

Breathing became harder the longer he watched, the decisions he had made were beginning to weight down on him. The disapproving faces of Bruce and Roy flashing in his mind, the distrust Bruce and the team would show him, the hopeless expression on his best friend’s face when he told him how he had gotten him back.

What he was doing was not right. He wasn't strong enough. There were already cracks forming underneath his skin even though Slade had been introducing him slowly into this world. He was no fool but he had thought it would be easier or maybe he had not thought at all. Why could he not plan like Bruce and Kaldur did? Why could he not be more like them and plan for everything?  

His fingertips pressed into the wood of the bench, he--

"Already having second thoughts?"

He gazed up at Slade, hand curling into a fist.

"No."

Slade tilted his head at the gesture, gaze as intense as ever. It burned all his defenses down until Slade could look straight into his soul. It was like a chokehold, back pressed against the wall. The look that made everyone talk and he knew those looks since he was nine, from Bruce, from Diana but they had never made him feel so vulnerable and unsure.

“Why are we training?” he asked, trying to avert Slade’s attention. The small knowing smile on Slade's lips made him shift nervously, gaze flickering away before it settled back on him.

“Roy knows your movements and Jason too. Even Cheshire might recognize them,” Slade answered, walking towards the mats and Dick followed with heavy limbs, “Through your athletics you have a very unique combat style. For the lack of a better word, we will have to ground it. Make it more like mine or at least like your mentor's.”

Dick nodded. He had heard those words since he had started out as Robin. No matter which costume he wore, people would always know it was him. Being recognized had never been an issue before. It had helped because the trust people gave Robin had given it to Nightwing as well.    

“No flips, no jumping, no somersaults. I get it,” he said with a shrug, forcing amusement into his voice.

Slade measured him up, arms crossed.

“We’ll see,” his tone was deep, nearly a warning.  

So much for being casual.

The fight remained even in the beginning but the faster Slade moved the more Dick was being forced into his usual fighting patterns. Taking the time to put his feet back on the ground was not possible once he began his own techniques without getting hit by an attack.  

“Keep to the ground,” Slade ordered and easily pulled his feet out under him. Dick rolled off on the ground into a crouch, looking up at him with irritation while trying to figure out what he could have done. There was just not enough time and he could not help doing a near flick flack when Slade hit down into the floor, the material creaking under the strength of his punch. Slade attacked again, the moment his feet hit the ground and nearly knocked him off balance when his hand compacted with his chest. Dick breathed in harshly, stumbling. The light bruises were nearly gone. A hit to his shoulder blade would hurt much more.  

“Come on,” Slade said when Dick straightened, ignoring the dull pain, “You can do better.”

He was certainly not seeing anything to be proud of either but he had no idea how he was supposed to fight differently without losing skill. A step back evaded the kick aimed at his face and had luck when side stepping the fist when it nearly collided with his shoulder.

“Don’t think too much about your movements” Slade urged, grabbing his wrist when he attacked again. Dick blocked the kick with his leg and wound himself out of the grip with one of his own linking it with a twist of his wrist. Ignoring that he would have normally taken the whole flow of movement to soar over him and pull his arm in the wrong direction over the shoulder to bring him down. It felt as if he was fighting in an air duct. He had always hated moving like this for long periods of time.

He aimed a high kick at him and Slade caught his ankle, pushing it up and Dick gritted his teeth when he started to feel the stretch in regions he had not ever before and the loss of his stance.

“This is alright if you are in a pinch,” Slade said and Dick let out a hiss when he was slightly pulled forward on his shoulder, fingertips digging into the bruises, “but if you think anyone without excessive athletic skills would attack like this when the rebound will leave them in a split, then you are mistaken.”

Dick glowered at him.

“Really?” he asked bitingly. This was no position he wanted to be in any longer. The hand had relaxed around his shoulder once the hiss had escaped him but Slade had not let go of his leg and they stood far too close for Dick not to be reminded about his predicament.

His gaze flickered to the side when it became apparent he would have to get out of the grip. Normally he would have pushed forward to get his balance back, locking his leg around the shoulder to bring them both down with his weight but that meant getting right up into his face and being so close to Slade - why could he only think about how it felt to be fucked?  

His back hit the mat hard before he could even comprehend that Slade had sidestepped to pull his leg forward but he kicked out of his grasp with a back roll, trying to ignore the new strain between his legs. Being an acrobat did not mean he needed to stay in such a position for more than few seconds.

Soon enough he found himself on his back again, a foot on his shoulder and a hand pulling his arm up. His arm grew limp reflexively to keep from hurting his sinew but the bruise on his shoulder was ground down into the mat and he could not help but let out a whimper of pain when it flared up.

Another groan escaped him when Slade pulled him up and he stepped back, clasping his hand around his wrist before he could raise it towards the damaged skin. Slade grasped his shoulder again, without as much strength this time and turned him around to assess the damage. The warm fingertips on his skin a sharp reminder how the bruises had come to be.

“I'm fine” he stated, voice strained as he waited for Slade to step back. His shoulders relaxed the second the touch disappeared and he let out a breath he had not known he was holding. Slade watched him without betraying his thoughts. It really did not make things easier.

“Go on then.”

Dick breathed through, falling back into a battle stance before attacking. Instead of somersaulting over him he remained on the ground. He sidestepped past him and turned, to throw him over his shoulder but Slade caught onto his shirt and made them tumble onto the ground together. Dick locked his legs around him when he was pressed to the ground using the momentum to come out on top.

He hesitated, Slade could get out of this no matter what and the mercenary used the moment, hand squeezing his throat. A strangled gasp of pain came past his lips when Slade dipped his fingertips into the bruises. His own hand came up to rip at his wrist but the grip eased before he could make it budge.

The bruise was throbbing in pain. It hurt more than he had thought. His hand was pushed away, his chin tipped up by knuckles as fingertips carefully brushed over the tender skin.

"We'll continue this tomorrow."

Dick shook his head even as he pulled back from the touch, shifting carefully as to not let Slade gain the upper hand but without bringing even more skin contact to the technique.

"No. I need today if they are not supposed to know."

It was an excuse even if it was true. Thinking about his mistakes for another day just wasn't an option. Slade shifted under him, propping his head up with an arm. Dick swallowed, throat dry.

"Your mind is elsewhere and the bruises don't help you concentrate. You might lose the day but it's better than to make them worse."

"I have trained with bruises all my life."

"And still you are oversensitive to them," Slade stated calmly.

Dick could not deny his words even though he wished to, so he snapped the next: "Why do you care? Hurting me has been on your agenda since day one."

Slade huffed and Dick instinctively locked his legs around the broader body when his back hit the mats one of them over a shoulder to catch him in a triangle. His own shoulder was squeezed in warning.

"If I wanted to hurt you, Dick, I would have done it. I would have dislocated your arm, would have broken your fingers; smashed your kneecap. In fact I would do those things if I intended to hurt you now."

Dick knew he was growing pale, especially with the pressure on his shoulder rising.

"Harper has gotten into your head pretty fast."

"It's not" he begun but fell silent because really, it would be a lie and Slade would look right through it.

"You had no problem with my niceness before, kid."

Dick bit his lip.

"No, no I hadn't," he took a breath, "But I don't need your consideration. I trained with worse wounds, fought with worse wounds."

"Wounds from a fight.”

He gazed at Slade, trying to understand where this was going and failing.

“There is no difference,” he said, but there really was. He did not enjoy getting bruises from a fight. “They don’t hurt more. I told you. You did not hurt me.”

His tone was less defensive than on the morning after and Slade heard it too. It was enough to make Slade stand up again, pulling him up by his shirt.

“Do you want to end the contract?”

Dick blinked at him, opened his mouth and blinked again.

“What?” he asked, frowning, “No.”

“Then listen to me.”

"Slade," he began but he knew he would not get through to him no matter what he said. Good that he knew how to handle personalities like Slade.

He brought Slade to the ground with a rotating kick. It was a messy attack but he reached his goal when he broke through the defense to the surprise of his teacher. The second he had pressed him down, he slammed a fist into his face.

It was far less satisfying than he had expected and certainly not his best idea. But it was alright because he hated that Slade suddenly cared, hated that he had wanted him to care sooner.

Fury flashed in the silver eye and pain shot through his chest. He was promptly pinned to the mats, teeth clicking when his chin connected with the floor, hands locked behind his back and head ripped up by his hair. Dick gritted his teeth to keep the cry of pain from his lips.

“Do you want me to hurt you? Is it that?” Slade asked dangerously, his knee was digging into his bowing back and his blue eyes widened, a choaked command to stop pressed out of his lips when the pain intensified. “Then what do you want?” Slade asked coldly, barely easing the grip.

Dick kept silent and Slade ripped him up into a sitting position, hand still gripping his hair. His look could freeze hell.

"Maybe a real fight will bring your head back into the game, kid."

_Great._

Slade held through to his words, his movements had turned real. It kept Dick more on edge, adrenaline shooting through his veins and making him better in evading the attacks even when he had to think about it. But real with Slade also meant harder than necessary and he had no chance to keep up with him if he still followed the rules for his training lesson.

Dick stumbled back against the wall, chest heaving. He dodged the first fist rather well, the other one came faster and he was barely able to evade it, only succeeded in turning his head away at the last second.

He kept completely still when Slade had caught him between the wall and his body. The fist was pulled back again and Dick expected to be hit square in his jaw as payback, his muscles tensed but he refused to close his eyes. The hand slammed forward, cracking the wall beside his head.

"Are you trying to kill me?" he bit out, his whole body arched with bruises and the clothes were clinging to his skin with sweat. There was a slight pull in his arm that reminded him about a joint lock but thankfully Slade had not taken his words too literally and left his arm intact.  

“Leave your dramatics on the streets, kid, ” Slade responded, pieces of the wall fell onto the mats, dust clinging to Dick’s skin. “You actually were better this time.”

Dick let out a dry laugh.

“Yes because you were treating me like a punching bag.”

His hackles were rising and maybe it was what Slade had wanted all along.

"You're an asshole, Slade."

"Because I listened to you?" came the query and Dick growled, stepping forward in agitation.

“You did not listen.” He hissed, pushing his finger into the broad chest, “I should be angry. I should be the one to leave bruises on you.”

“You brought this onto yourself,” Slade said but did not do anything against the finger digging between his rips. “You feel threatened but do I gain something by being nice to you? Or is it just a personal preference?”

Dick pressed his lips together.

"You knew about Akinloye, you accepted when I tried to help you with your guilt,” Slade reminded, coming even nearer, “You lean into my every touch, you were sure we would never kill Red Hood before I even told you.”

“Well, you did not fuck me to discard me like a ragdoll before” he spit out, regretting his words immediately.

“You,” Slade started and Dick turned his head away, pulling his hand back to ready himself for the mocking. It did not come and the silence expanded, nervousness growing.

He did not know what he wanted out of the conversation. It would not give him certainty. He should have kept his mouth shut, should have just let Slade do the training how he wanted. How much manipulation could that be? None. Probably.

"Get your emotions under control,” Slade finally said, “Decide to distrust me or ignore Harper. See me as an enemy or an ally. The contract stands and you will fulfill all of the conditions. It’s everything or nothing.”

Dick’s fingertips dug into his crossed arms to keep all the undefined feelings from breaking out. He had dug his own grave because he had only thought about Wally. He could live with his decision. He had to.  

“We are taking a short break then we’ll continue,” Slade said mid-turn as if the whole conversation had been pointless and forgettable.

Dick knew it was enough. He had been discarded again, differently this time. But the only reason he had become Robin at the age of nine had been his persistence and his knowledge of body language. He could see through a whole lot of the lies his mentor produced, he could see when Slade tried to avoid something. What had happened was not only bothering him.

Slade had seen Roy as a personal attack. Otherwise he would not have turned angry. Slade felt guilty. Otherwise he would not have cared for a hiss of pain. And maybe everything or nothing had been a lie; why else would Slade save Akinloye? Why not leave her for dead?  

“I'm going to ignore Roy under one condition,” his voice was firm but he could still feel it shake in his throat. He hoped he was not making a mistake, reading all of this wrong. The line he was walking could barely be called one.

"Deny his words.”

Slade tilted his head, body still half turned to the door.    

“You wanted my loyalty. Say it and you will have it,” Dick pressed on.

“Have you finally lost your mind?” Slade asked in forced calmness.

“No,” Dick said, allowing a smirk, “All things considered I am perfectly sane."

Slade gazed at him for much longer than he had ever done. His face was expressionless perhaps even tired and with every moment passing by Dick felt as if Slade was simply looking through him instead of seeing him. Then Slade straightened again and turned his back to him, only stopping when he was nearly out of the room.  

“He is wrong.”

Dick shook his head, hoping this would be enough to survive the next months.

The training went on harsh but not brutal. They did not bring up the conversation. Dick had gotten what he wanted and he had no illusion that Slade would not lash out if he dared to push further.

Dick slid down against the wall, exhausted and tired. He was not sure when his last excessive training had taken place but it felt like ages ago.  

He was barely able to catch the water bottle thrown to him and the snort from Slade when he could barely keep it from slipping out of his fingers did not make holding onto it easier. Slade Wilson chuckled and laughed but he did _not_ snort.

“You really think this will keep them from knowing?” Dick asked after a few gulps.

“I would not have wasted a day with it if not. Follow my orders and everything will be fine.”

Dick rolled his eyes and wondered why all of the people he knew had such a boner for orders. He studied Slade while the mercenary looked at the damage they had done to the equipment.

“I did not want to go against your orders when we were in the bar but I was not too keen on seeming helpless. It was a reflex.”

He had wanted to get this off his chest and it was a safer topic than Roy. After seeing what the barkeeper was he had understood the order better. He just wished Slade had told him about the abilities.

Slade hesitated to react as if he wanted to ignore anything that had happened on the day all together.

“I was not angry with you, the reaction was reasonable” was finally the gruff reply.

Dick huffed, looking back at the water bottle and nervously scratching at the plastic.

“Not angry with me? Even though I did not follow orders? You really are growing soft, hmm?” he asked amused, glancing back up.

“It was my miscalculation that forced you to react in the first place” stated Slade, ignoring the comment but taking notice, “We will meet with the others in about a week.”

Dick hummed in acknowledgment while he watched Slade inspect the sword, thumb stroking over the blade and hand curling around the hilt as if he was searching for new blemishes.

“Did something happen on the mission?” Dick finally dared to ask, settling his chin on his knees.

“It was not a mission.”

Dick looked at him questioningly and Slade raised the sword. It had been sharpened and was glinting innocently in the bright light. He nearly expected it to split the sheath in two when Slade pushed it back in.

“I killed the barkeeper.”


	18. Training

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "real new chapter" will be up tomorrow. :)  
> Thanks as always for the comments. They will always be my greatest motivation and I love every single one of them! :D

Dick never asked about the barkeeper again, sure to hear about his death from the Outlaws. Slade Wilson did not kill without a benefit. A death like his would end up on the rumor mill. Dick was simply not sure if he wanted to know which half-truths were spreading among their ranks.

The training proceeded with less other thoughts invading his mind but he was growing more and more frustrated even though he knew fighting like this was for the best.

But after three days Dick just wanted to scream.

His fist crashed into the wall, leaving an impressive mark behind. The pain in his knuckles only made him angrier.

“How can you fight like this?” Dick growled. He felt more like a caged animal than ever before. No wonder Bruce and Slade were always easily irritated, though they at least did not get reprimanded to fight differently every two seconds by being swept off their feet. He felt more than incompetent at the moment perhaps even a bit humiliated and severely humbled. Slade was showing him since three days that Dick had no chance against him even if he tried.

Speaking of, the mercenary was completely unimpressed by his outburst.

It was as if someone had bound him in chains. It was like running against the wall repeatedly – for hours.

There was a nervous twitch to his muscles he had come to acknowledged since the day before and he breathed through, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes and tilting his head back to relax the straining muscles. How could something like this affect him so much? Bruce would just pull through, stoic as ever and Dinah would see this as a challenge, taking on the task with a smirk on her lips.

Damn it.

“I have seen you change your style in mid battle often enough,” Slade spoke up from his position a few feet away, “You just have to do it consciously. I would never believe changing your style could work in the short time we have if you were not already good at adapting to your opponents.”

Dick was hearing such praise for the first time and he definitely had not known about this quirk of his. An unbidden small smile stole itself on his lips even if he wanted to question the underlying praise.

“Take a break. I still have a few things to do but we will finish training after an early dinner.”

Dick let his hands sink and opened his eyes again, nodding to show he had listened and relaxed when Slade left the room. Over the last days he had only seen Slade during training and Dick did not know if he should be grateful for the freedom or anxious about the things to come.

He decided to relax further with a few yoga positions before trying to find something to do. Being here made it painfully obvious to him how much crime fighting dominated his life. Everything he did was for the sake of something greater, despite always making others believe he had a normal life. He shook his head. He could search for new hobbies when he was home, when Wally was back.

He fluently changed into another position. Dick would have never started trying the complex forms if it had not been for Barbara and Tim challenging him after lost bets. He genuinely loved it by now. There was just something about stretching like this that made him feel more powerful and simply good, healthy even.

He unwound again after a while, muscles relaxed and his mind calmer than before. It worked better than any meditation Bruce had ever shown him.

Wintergreen was working in the garden for a chance and he decided to join him. It was still relatively cold but the sun was shining brightly and only a few clouds were visible in the otherwise blue sky. The radio was playing music from the eighties and Wintergreen was humming along. It was a strange image, he only knew the accurate work Alfred tended to do and while the butler often heard classic he would never hum along - at least not while someone could hear him.

“Would you like to help?” Wintergreen asked, turning to him and Dick could not hide his surprise. Alfred had never wanted anyone in his domain. The only way to be granted access to the flowerbeds was a very bad day or sickness.

“Sure, what can I do?” Dick asked with a smile. In his childhood Old Haly had made a tradition out of planting a flower or tree wherever they had stopped on their travels. He had learned to live without the circus but the memories of those long gone days were still as clear as ever.

“Rose wanted a few new sorts of her namesakes being planted,” Wintergreen explained with a twinkle in his eyes and Dick shook his head good naturally. He would miss the girl once the year was over.

“Wouldn’t she want Slade to plant them?” he asked when the older man showed him the bare roots.

“Believe me it is better if you do it,” Wintergreen said, Dick raised his eyebrow at the phrasing, “climbing roses or weeping tree roses?”

“Why not both?” Dick challenged. Wintergreen laughed quietly.

“Taking care of one will already take up a lot of time.”

“Fair enough,” Dick responded, pondering over the question for a moment, “The weeping tree. They look beautiful.”

“Excellent choice,” confirmed Wintergreen.

It took a good part of the afternoon to plant the roses. They were too sensitive to rush the process and with every cut to the roots their silence got more companionable until the music and the birds were the only sound between them.

Dick fell back into the grass with a sigh, hands dirty with wet earth and Wintergreen shook his head at his antics, pulling the gloves off his hand. A light sheen on his forehead betrayed how old the man really was. If Dick had not known Alfred then he would have wondered how the veteran was still able to do so much for Slade and Rose.

“Would you enjoy something sweet after our hard work?” Wintergreen asked while stretching, “Yesterday I made a wonderful Bakewell tart.”

“Absolutely” Dick replied, standing up as well to follow the man inside but was promptly banned to the couch before he could help and he rolled his eyes at the antics. The television was only back noise when Wintergreen returned and through the grand window they had a clear view of the earnings of their work.

“Rose will be overjoyed to have a shrine to remember you by,” Wintergreen said, elegantly digging into his cake. Dick laughed.

“Please don’t say shrine. That sounds as if I will die” he informed him, cringing. Dick was still a bit unsure how Slade would react to him leaving marks of existence in his house. Their relationship was complicated at best and at the moment Dick really did not know where they stood. Slade had become more reserved again as if their conversation had just re-established a clear line Dick was not aware of.

“I’m sorry.”

The earnest in his voice surprised Dick and he looked back up from his cake.

“I did not want to imply anything. Rose is simply flourishing through your presence. She is in higher spirits since you arrived and when you left on your solo mission she was devastated, believing you would not return.”

Dick frowned. No wonder Slade had given her to Adeline. She was the lesser of two evils.

Dick shifted awkwardly when Wintergreen kept staring at him. His mouth failed to speak the right words. Once Rose had been gone and with other problems standing in the way he had not thought about her words anymore. She wished for him to be more than a simple ally and if she had thrown a tantrum while he was gone Slade knew.

“Ah, enough of that” Wintergreen said, placing his fork down onto his empty plate. The tension between them was nearly touchable to Dick. Whatever this test had been, he had failed. “How is her training going along?”

Dick swallowed down the lump in his throat, finally raising his own fork to his mouth before indulging into the light chatter that was everything but. At least he still got some information to her academics before the name Robin forced him to look at the flickering screen.

“One of the most inspiring heroes of Gotham has gotten hurt today. Robin was rescued by Batman from the clutches of a new enemy” the reporter stated, “Video footages have confirmed that this new threat to Gotham’s well-known vigilantes is none other than the Red Hood.”

The footage had been caught by a camera on the docks Dick knew all too well. Tim was clutching his side, having trouble to stand up-right while Bruce was standing between his two sons, guarding one from the other. Dick could see his rage in the way he moved and Jason was going in for the kill every time he attacked.

It was wrong. Why would Jason hurt Tim? Why would he want to kill Bruce? He could not be that angry. He stared back at the half eaten cake trying to visualize the image in his head to analyze the situation properly, just how he had been taught.

How hurt were they? Why had Jason done this? Was he really so angry at Bruce to go after Tim? Where was Barbara? Was she safe?

“Security footage has been uploaded to different websites and while this seems to be a sole conflict between heroes and villains the end result will surely affect Gotham and its population. Going directly after Robin is a clear sign of war.”

Dick already knew this was going to backfire on the heroes before the reporter announced an expert just for him to showcase how Batman had failed countless times to save the city. He shut the program off - at least he knew it would remain a family matter - and forcefully resumed his conversation with Wintergreen.

The older man did not to pry or comment but the conversation switched to their own combat and martial arts training. Wintergreen was shocked to hear about his starting age, a good load of bloody hells leaving his lips that left Dick genuinely smirking. It was an act though the shock at the beginning had been real and it kept him from worrying too much about the whole situation at home.

During dinner Wintergreen stealthily left the newspaper on the free chair of Rose and Dick could see a close up from the bloodied red suit. It was a blurry image at best but he had seen through enough surveillance cameras in his life to notice the nuances of every pixel. It was not life threatening but it was nasty. Jason had not been playing around.

Training did not go as planned. Dick felt the same frustration coming back to him the instant he set foot on the mats and he tried not to think too much about his family while he moved. But even though his anger and frustration made him attack more brutal and straightforward, he also did not think about his moves anymore.

Jason could have killed Tim and he would not have been there, again. Dick felt sick.

Slade slammed him into the ground, pressing the air out of his lungs.

“Where are you with your head, Dick?” Slade asked and kept him down with a warm large hand plastered to his chest. “You are letting your instincts take over and doing that won’t change your style.”

Dick kept his mouth shut, knowing an excuse would not count nor did he necessarily want Slade to know. He was pulled back up again and Dick rolled his shoulders, unable to lose the warm feeling in his chest.

“Put these on.”

Dick frowned at the shackles but took them from his hands to inspecting them.

“No normal weights?” he asked with skepticism. This was a gravity increaser.

“It will create an imbalance that will force you to concentrate,” Slade explained, “Put them on or try further without them, just know we won’t finish until I am satisfied with your performance.”

Dick knew it meant he would be trapped in the trainings room even if it took all night. He put them around his ankles with a sigh, knowing they would, in fact, keep him from losing his focus. Slade set the control up and Dick felt gravity working against him in a second. He had to look down just to make sure that he was really not sinking into the floor.

Training became more like torture than he would like to admit. The gravity kept changing in an unclear rhythm, sometimes even differing at the same time and Dick had to find his footing more than once in a mere second.

Then he more or less crashed to the ground directly in front of Slade’s feet. Dick was not sure how Slade had kept such a straight face while he was dying of mortification, looking up at the man while on his hands and knees.

Hitting the thirty-minute mark he already had a few bruises more and a starting headache. A near hour later sweat was tripping down his skin and his legs felt like jelly. Slade caught him at the one hour mark before he could hit the ground face first, though Dick would have preferred the floor than hitting the broad warm muscular chest. Dick gave himself a moment to calm his breathing before pushing out of the light grasp Slade had around his shoulders, standing on shaky legs. If this would not generate new muscle mass he did not know what would.

“I’m proud of you.”

Dick snapped his head up so fast that blackness overtook his vision for a moment and he grunted, barely fast enough to steady himself on the table.

“You did well. I did not think you would hold out for a whole hour.”

Dick was speechlessly left in the trainings room.

He had earned praise from Slade, two times on one day nonetheless. A small smile danced over his lips, despite not wanting to take the praise to heart. Bruce had used it scarcely and as much as Dinah had told them how good they were doing, he had never been able to take her comments to heart, knowing Bruce would not agree. It took a moment before he realized that the blooming feeling in his chest was happiness.

“You might want to see this,” Wintergreen told him when he stepped into the dining room. Dick stared down onto the laptop. The incident with his family had apparently taken over the internet and he did not like what he could see on those footages and in the articles at all. Tim had not been attacked. He had been kidnapped if he connected this correctly. The anger he had seen in Jason during their meeting was nothing compared to the rage and nastiness on the short video tapes. It was suspicious that so many videos existed in the first place. Had Jason wanted to kill one of them? Had he secured a location with many cameras to show the world that Batman was a failure? That people died under his care?

“You want to call him?”

Dick nearly flinched when the voice resounded so near behind him. He had thought Slade had disappeared up into the study again instead of hanging around.

“You would let me?” he asked incredulously, not believing the indication in his words.

“As long as you do it right here, yes. One and a half minutes, not more.”

“Tim could hack this house in seconds,” he warned, not sure why he felt the urge to remind them.

“Then you better do not give him a reason,” Wintergreen responded from beside him, holding out the telephone and Dick stared at it for a moment before deciding it was worth it.

The phone dialed and Dick kept his eyes on his feet, locking his free hand under his arm.

Working with the Bat meant he was not easily intimidated but Slade and Wintergreen together were worse than Bruce. He could feel their gazes burning into his skin, pinning him where he leaned against the table. It did not help that they both stood near enough to seem like a physical threat. It was unmistakable that they had worked together often. Just one wrong move and they would strike. Dick was just not sure how or when.

“It’s me. Dick,” he said into the phone before Tim had time to speak, “Are you alright?”

“Dick!” Tim sounded pleased to hear from him, “Where are you? We got your last card. You really have to write more.”

Dick bit his lip.

“I’m at the airport. My next flight is in a few seconds. I heard about the attack. I just want to know if you are alright. If you died,” he broke off knowing his voice would crack if he said more, knowing Tim would get it.

“I’m fine” Tim replied quickly, warmly and easily “He roughed me up but the media made it look worse than it was. Bruce on the other hand-”

Tim trailed off and that was something his little brother never did.

“What do you mean? What happened?” he pushed on.

“I can’t tell you over the phone. But it’s about Red Hood’s identity. It’s a disaster,” Tim said, groaning and then he caught himself again, “When will you be back?”

Dick swallowed, gaze flickering up to Slade.

“I don’t know yet. I have to finish a few things here in Europe. You know how it is with crime. Just tell me what he did. Just tell me all of you are alright.”

Tim huffed at the demanding tone and Dick chuckled lightly.

“I am. He hates me but we came to an agreement?” Tim did not sound sure but he was alive, so Jason had never wanted to hurt him. The thought flooded Dick with relief. “Eh, the worst wound was arguably my own stupidity?”

Dick frowned, “Tim–”

“Believe me, it was. And I don’t want to speak about it,” Tim responded, embarrassment clear in his voice, “Bruce, though. He feels guilty, really guilty and he got hurt. The Hood taunted and outsmarted him.”

“He will get through it,” Dick promised, though he had to laugh at the phrasing, “I have to go. Keep an eye on him for me. You got him out of hell once. You can do it a second time. I trust you.”

It was quiet for a beat.

“Thank you,” Tim said softly. They all wanted praise, reassurance. Jason had craved for it too, perhaps even more than anyone else. He should have been there. Damn it. He should have been there instead of trying to run away from Bruce.

“No problem, Timmy. Keep safe.”

He canceled the call right at the mark and kept his gaze on the ground, holding the phone loosely in his hand until it was taken away by Wintergreen, who squeezed his arm in comfort. Slade had already disappeared soundlessly and Dick decided it was time to end the day.

The training had been exhausting and sleep came easily to him. After his initial concern had settled, waking nearer to Slade had become common. As long as he kept a few centimeters between them it would suffice. Only his own thoughts were to fear while he slept and Slade did not seem to care either way. Fighting against the gravitation towards the middle of the bed would show a worse sort of weakness and his senses had finally caught up on his conscious decisions. His vigilance had returned and he woke with bleary eyes to the sound of Slade speaking on the phone.

It was still dark, cold moonlight illuminating the room and Dick pushed himself up, the blanket falling off his shoulders. He leaned against the headboard, brushing strands of hair out of his face. Slade glanced at him and Dick realized that he had never seen him with sleep mussed hair before. The man still appeared to be put together, not only because his black shirt stretched over his chest, not able to leave wrinkles even if it tried. It did not help that he knew how Slade looked underneath, how his muscles flexed when he–

Dick swallowed. Slade had always held a certain appeal to him by now the word was not strong enough anymore. He willed his arousal away and pushed through his sleep-hazed mind to concentrate on the actual words, thankful for the body control he possessed.

“We will be there. Just send the helicopter to the coordinates,” Slade kept silent for a moment, listening to the person on the other side, “No, they won’t be able to find the entrance this easily. They just began trying to enter the area. It will take them a few hours to get further. By the behavior, you describe they do not know about the silent alarm.”

The caller seemed to be satisfied by the words. A facility and the silent alarm probably meant this mission was directly from the Light but the call ended before Dick could fish out more information.

“Mercenaries have preached a facility Vandal Savage uses for his weapons and we have the task to prevent them before they find anything of importance” Slade explained, standing up from the bed “They are professionals but won’t be a problem for both of us. It is a perfect opportunity to test your skill. Show me that you really learned something in the last hours.”

So much for the praise.

Dick really did not want to but he peeled himself out of bed and followed Slade through the night until they got to the helicopter at the border of the next city.

“They have broken through the first obstacle and have entered the old factory. It is safe to assume they know the entrance to the underground facility is in one of the rooms,” the agent told them, “We do not know if they were hired for the government or for a private investor, Sir.”

Slade nodded.

“It does not matter. Vandal Savage already told me how he wants to end this.”

There was only one way someone like Vandal Savage wanted this to end. He should have garnered more information from the call. How could he be so inattentive even now?

The facility was an old abandoned building and Dick knew they had something about it in their system. Kaldur and Artemis had suspected that the place was important after hearing about it multiple times.

They dropped down on the roof where Slade showed him the outline and where the mercenaries would most likely be. Dick really missed his own lenses. They could have easily copied the information. The outline of the factory was chaotic, especially since it was a half ruin.

“They should still be in three teams of five scouting the area. Finding this facility means they know about me too but they won’t know about you. You will confront them every time we meet a group. This is your training after all. I will help if needed,” Slade explained, snapping the map shut again after pointing on the most likely places they could find them.

Dick nodded, stepping forward to jump down into the dark but a grip around his biceps held him back as Slade pulled him closer again.

“And one last thing,” the mercenary said firmly, eye gazing intently at him, “You will have to make them bleed. This is a mission for Vandal Savage. If he requests to see you because you showed mercy, I won’t be able to protect you.”

Dick nodded, pressing his fingers to the cold metal strapped to his legs. He could do this. It was not as if he had never hurt anyone before. Slade looked up once more, watching the helicopter above them before he let go and Dick turned before Slade could pull his mask on.

They found the first team easily, scouting out a bigger room. The lights kept flickering above them, half broken. The mercenaries nearly looked like a SWAT team and Dick breathed through before he stepped out of the shadows, walking towards them without them even realizing he was behind them.

He threw a throwing knife the moment one of them turned around. All of them had their guns drawn and Dick knew it would become complicated dodging them if he was supposed to stay in his current style. The knife hit the first in the shoulder and Dick drew his gun to send a bullet through the MG.

He ducked from the first fire assault, rolling behind cover to emerge the next second, throwing a smoke bomb while they shot at him. A bullet grazed him before the room was filled with smoke.

He took the wounded out with a kick to his ankle, feeling it crack under his strength and hit him in the neck with the rifle of his gun.

The second one was thrown over his shoulder into the next wall and he stepped on the off going gun, shattering it. The smoke was lifting again. A click resounded behind him and he turned in time to avoid the bullet meant for his head. His toes duck into his boots when he was already feeling irritation creeping up inside him again and it did not help that the bullet had instead embedded itself into the taken out enemy.

“Where is Deathstroke?” the man asked in a gruff voice, gun raised and Dick let his gaze sweep through the room, wondering why not three guns were pointed at him. The other two had disappeared but he could see the blood on the ground, knew the pattern came from a sword splitting their bodies.

He did not answer as bile rose in his throat, ramming into the man, shoulder digging into his chest, he forced him back. Changing his stance he impacted his palm with the man’s chin, making him fly back down into the floor. He twisted his gun hand, breaking it and crashed his fist into the nose.

Dick stood upright again, staring down at the man. His stomach twisted. A voice was whispering in his ear that sounded very much like Roy. It kept saying that this would be the night he was going to betray everything he believed in.

“Come on, we have more to do.”

A hand lay down on his shoulder, so heavy Dick felt like crumbling right under it but his gaze following the arm up to the mask. If he wanted to survive the night he would have to stop thinking.

He forced breath into his lungs, imagining the first night out as Robin and how he had let Bruce navigate his movements. This would not be different. Just move, don’t think.

He could do this.

The mercenaries were good but not used to fighting superhuman threats and Dick easily handled his targets, ignoring how every break of bone made him twitch, ignoring how the blood felt trailing down his body. The only wounds he received were grazing bullets and bruises, not enough to stop his mind from reeling.

Maybe he felt as if he deserved to get a bullet through his head.

Underlings had shown up, binding the few still living mercenaries and then carried them to another room.

At the end six of the formerly fifteen mercenaries were left. Nearly all of them were awake again but they would not cause trouble. Bound, gagged and wounded they awaited their fate.

Slade looked them over as if searching for something before finally crouching down in front of the one who had asked for him in the beginning. By the way everyone seemed to tense Dick knew that the man was important. Slade grasped the handle of his sword and Dick felt his mouth run dry, involuntarily stepping forward. The hand sunk again and Slade looked back, standing up and walking away from them.

“Wait with the other agents” Slade ordered, squeezing his shoulder. Dick let his gaze drift to the men and women. They were ready for death, had expected to die. He could see it in their eyes. Slade did not wait for an answer, pushing him out of the room and locking the door.

Dick stared at the door, hands pushing against the cold metal and he gritted his teeth, could not lose it here. It was not easy to turn his back on them but finally he did, a shiver running down his spine as he imagined a scream.

Torture and death were all that awaited them and as much as Dick tried to keep his mind away from such images the thoughts returned again and again. He climbed back into the helicopter when the agent nodded at him.

A few minutes later Slade joined them with their prisoner. Blood was splattered on their clothes and Dick looked away, out of the window. The facility became smaller and smaller.

They landed on top of a hotel and the agent took the prisoner away. An invitation to stay in the hotel was thankfully declined by Slade.

He had no clue how long they had needed to enter the nearly cozy apartment, plastered with fake pictures of a family that did not exist. Unlike the family of the men and women who had been killed.

“Get the blood off of you,” Slade said, slipping the collar off easily, “Take your time.”

Dick walked past him into the bathroom, strategically taking his clothes off until he could step into the shower. He was freezing under the water while the blood washed off in a steadily pink stream. His whole body trembled and he could pretend it only came from the icy droplets sliding down his skin.

He stepped out of the bathroom with the water still resounding in his ears and blocked out everything else, concentrating on making coffee while his hands kept shaking. Scalding his tongue was far from the punishment he deserved but the pain was still good enough to get him out of his pathetic state.

Slade was nowhere in sight and he let himself cry, sobbing with his back against the counter.

There was nothing he could have done and Slade had gone out of his way to make sure he would not be forced to kill. He reminded himself that this was not the first time people had died around him. There were always casualties, always people they could not save and especially in Gotham people often enough had to die before they knew what was going on.

He stood up again to clean his gear with the most aggressive liquid he could find until he could not smell the blood anymore.

The skin on his hands was peeling off by the time he finished and Dick silently looked down at the mask with its red lenses. He had never quite realized how much he hated them and the mask cracked under his hands. A heavy sigh parted his lips and he rubbed the tear streaks away with the back of his hand. Enough with the crying.

“Where were you?” he asked the moment Slade stepped into the apartment. His gaze drifted over the designer clothes and Dick raised an eyebrow in confusion despite his eyes watering again. He clutched harder onto the mask in his hands.

“I made the report” Slade explained, hanging his coat up and walking towards him, taking notice of his hands with a frown. Dick knew it had been a few hours since Slade had left him here. Even a report to Vandal Savage would not take this long. Dick swallowed, staring at the red lenses again.

“So,” he began when Slade moved to make use of the brewed coffee, “What affiliation did the group have?”

It was silent for a moment, Slade sipping on his coffee.

“Government” was finally his answer and Dick hated that the Light simply did what it wanted.

“Did you kill him?” he asked because he had to know. If he could not save anyone he would at least need certainty. Every information he gathered could be used later to destroy the plans. He would not let them die in vain.

“No.”

Dick was honestly surprised by the answer but it did not mean the man would survive. Maybe it would have been better to get a yes as an answer.

“How many did you kill today?”

“Fourteen.”

Hearing the number felt unreal, it was as if the deaths were just an addition to a collection.

“Did you never have a problem with killing?” he asked, feeling the irritation grow again

Slade crossed his arms, settling the coffee aside. It was obvious how he would get a genuine answer and Dick wondered why.

“I did not join the army to kill but I saw it as sufficient. I recognized the practical aspect.”

Dick could not see anything practical about it even if he understood the reasoning.

“Killing is easy but everything afterward is not until you get used to it. The first time,” Slade started and stopped. The smile growing on his lips was so genuine it made Dick’s breath cut short.

“It doesn’t feel like anything. You know you just killed a man but it was during the war. I didn’t care, didn’t realize the repercussions.”

Dick licked his lips, did not really want to ask and Slade answered anyway.

“We killed a lot of people and you never get over it. Most can’t deal, a small number surprisingly does. I kept on killing because it was the only thing I could do and when the serum finally kicked in it dealt with the rest.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, the last words making him peak up.

“The serum doesn’t only influence body cells. Trauma is a chemical process. The serum is blocking what harms me.”

“Could” he hesitated, searching for the right words, and shifted “you unblock it?”

“Why should I?”

Dick kept silent, still fiddling with the mask while he stared at the amused smirk. He wondered if every trauma Slade had witnessed would come crashing down on him if he ever decided to hold the serum back.

“Why do you still kill?”

“Because it is a permanent solution.”

The now empty mug was placed onto the counter. Dick knew question time was over and his fingertips brushed over the red lenses.

“I want my lenses back.”

“Why?” Slade asked, cracking his neck as if this was a casual conversation and not just another struggle for a bit more power.

“The ones I have were made especially for my eyes and I don’t have your abilities. They include a few more gadgets.”

Slade hummed.

“Fine, you will connect them to my servers.”

Dick faltered a bit, knowing Slade would be able to access every detail he saw but it was not as if he would leave the man’s side in the next months.

“Fine” he echoed.


	19. Friends

Two days took the route to their destination, enough to leave a fails trail behind them. Slade disliked staying in one place for too long, especially when he had not left his real home for a while. Even with his affiliation to the Light, the number of his enemies was still rising. The two days on the run at least gave Dick an excuse to stay awake, he was too afraid another nightmare would wake him in Slade's arms. Just with his eyes closed, he could see the streaks of blood sticking to the floor, slash after slash painting a gruesome imagine. He had turned his back, had let innocent women and men die. Slade should have forced him to watch, at least then he would have tried, would have done something. How could he call himself a hero? He could not save anyone.  

“This is just one big cliché. I thought aliens were more creative,” Jason stated drily when they stood on the highest point of the inactive volcano and a little grin appeared on Roy’s face. Dick could not help the huff-snort from escaping his throat even though Jason was just another problem on the ever growing list. His brother tilted his head in question.

“They could have taken an active one, is what our friend is trying to say,” said Cheshire, chuckling under her mask with a hand on his shoulder and Dick nodded, a small smile spreading over his lips. Despite his worries to see them again, he actually felt better.

“I don’t think they cared for clichés,” said Slade, barely hiding his distaste for their bad humor while they followed him down the steep hillside, “If they did, the government would know that aliens worked through the stone of one of the _most beautiful_ natural reserves on earth.”

Roy grunted, surprisingly not appearing as hostile anymore. “Why did they choose it?”

“Certainly not to taunt,” said Jason under his breath and Dick looked at him from the corner of his eye. He could not believe that this Jason right beside him had gone into a fit of rage just to hurt his family.

“Actually they did it exactly because of that,” Slade shot back and Dick could hear the slightest hint of amusement in his voice, “A volcano is connected to the center of the Earth.”  

“They saw it as an openly weak spot and a sign that Earth is inferior?” asked Jason incredulously, interest peaked and Dick smiled secretly, remembering how Jason had hung on every word Bruce had said in the beginning, eager to learn. Slade looked back at his brother with an amused glint in his eye.

“The Bat taught you something after all.”

Jason balled his hands into fists undeniably unhappy by the reminder but did not say anything. There was no denying that Jason was obviously blaming Bruce for letting him die and Dick could see his point. When he had come back after the long mission to find Jason’s grave already waiting for him he had blamed Bruce too. But in the end, it was not his fault.

“This should be it,” Slade said when they stopped in front of an unnaturally straight earth wall “You know how the technology looks so it should be easy to find.”

They gave their affirmation, starting to search along the overgrown stone. Dick had transferred his own lenses onto this suit by now and was grateful for the extra gadgets.

“There,” Jason said in the same moment Dick raised his arm to point at the location. They stared at each other for a moment and Dick tried to keep calm when he was scrutinized.  

“You don’t have to kill him just because he is as intelligent as you.”

Dick nearly jumped, nearly feeling the words against his ear and Roy chuckled, a hand grasping his shoulder as his former friend all but leaned against him. He tilted his head, not turning to look at him in fear Roy could look through the white lenses.

“Didn’t plan to,” said Jason gruffly and huffed, careful when tugging the plants away from the panel. It was obvious he had not forgotten that they were still in a natural reserve. Dick’s heart clenched. He was still the little boy Bruce had taken in. Jason still cared. _So, so much._    

“You might want to know that they have started calling him Trigger,” commented Cheshire. She was leaning against one of the old trees by now, the words directed at Slade, “because certain death awaits anyone who touches him.”

Slade hummed and walked to the control Jason had lain free, pointedly looking at Roy. “Do they?”

Roy chuckled near his ear and pulled his hand back, raising both of them in surrender. By now Dick was sure Roy knew. His friend had not been happy since years. He had not heard him laugh this much since he had started to think about a sidekick as a degrading label.

“You wanted to murder the whole room. You might not have killed anyone but you were very Trigger Happy.”

Dick kept from cringing, while Cheshire groaned.  

“Leave the joking to Jason, please,” said the assassin and scoffed, “And we all know someone died.”

The last part was said without the usual snark lacing her words as if Cheshire expected to hear a reason.

Dick stepped away from Roy towards the control when the alien script appeared on the screen. His team had been able to open those kinds of doors before. His lenses held the codes they had collected through Blue Beetle.

“He saw it coming, Cheshire,” Slade answered just as coldly, “He did not heed the warnings. You know how it works.”

Cheshire tilted her head, gaze falling onto Dick. It was tense for another second before she shrugged. The door opened with a slight burst of air and gave way to a dark corridor. Dick concentrated on the problem at hand even as Cheshire talked on.

“You’re awfully possessive over your experiment. I only ever see men like you behave like that over family.”

Dick looked back at them, ignored Roy’s gaze.

“Family?” Slade asked and Dick twitched when a finger hooked under his collar. His heart was trying to break through his ribcage. “You think he is family?”

Slade huffed, tugging to make him take the tiniest step closer.

“Maybe you are right. Maybe the collar isn’t real,” Slade proclaimed, tilting his head to Roy, “Maybe it is. Maybe you could spare him a lot of pain if you stopped snooping into my business.”

Dick only realized he had squeezed his eyes shut when Slade let go again and Dick turned, back too straight to be normal, walking down into the darkness with a heavy breath. The walls did not look like stone. It was metal, Dick presumed, but with aliens, one could not be sure.

His attention reverberated back to Slade, who he suspected had like always withheld information from him.

“I only know the structure” Slade stated as if he knew how accusing the blue eyes looked at him underneath the mask “The Reach were not forthcoming with information. Neither side ever trusted each other.”

His voice was easy again, the danger he had embodied so well mere seconds ago gone.

Dick frowned, starting to analyze the material with his lenses. Normally they processed the data through the bat computer but for long missions, they could hold some data in their microchips. Maybe Tim had come across the material before on one of his missions.

The corridor was long, even with night vision he could not see an end and their steps echoed on the steel-like material. At the end a bigger circular hall greeted them, the steel disappearing between rocks of cold stone.

“Why did they work this much to contain them?” Jason asked, hand stroking over the stone “I get that they wanted to protect it but this seems more like a shrine.”

Jason trailed off and huffed.

“Don’t tell me the Scarab is not the only thing they have in common with Egyptians.”

Roy threw a flare into the darkness and inscriptions showed themselves, a scarab was hanging over the next door and Cheshire sighed exaggeratingly.

“We really can’t wait for Luthor to finish his project?” she asked and Roy looked at her with narrowed eyes before determinedly stalking forward.

“If you don’t want to, you can go.”

Cheshire clicked her nails together but thankfully they did not start quarreling.

Dick followed Roy when Slade stepped forward as well. The inscriptions were alien language but modern films had done their job well to make the bad imitation of Egyptian civilization appear foreboding and dangerous.

“There was a reason why Luthor did not want to recover them from here. He knew they protect their technology with traps.”

“Great” commented Jason but they still walked through the big dark door with the scarab above them.

Three different ways opened in front of them. The middle looked most promising if they followed the map but neither of them could be sure that it was right and detailed enough to be of any help. At least it seemed as if the traps were not too frequent.

The first trap was not on it.

Dick only caught the small glimpse of light through the corner of his eyes when the lasers activated, Jason already calling out for them to get back. It was only a short fire that cracked the walls, easy to evade. Dick kept tense, trying to find out why.

He looked up.

It sounded like thunder when the wall crashed down and Dick reacted before he could think, ripping Roy to the ground with him. The wall shot down beside them as the earth cracked beneath it and dust blew up, small stones ripping through the air, raining down on them and cutting into exposed skin, then it was over.

Dick slowly stood up, ignoring the cut on his cheek. He could hear Roy groan but Dick had protected his head when he had pushed him down.

He walked to the thick stone that was now separating them from the others, gaze flitting around to keep an eye out for loose stones or other traps. For a moment he scrutinized the wall then pressed his fingers into the cracks, hoping to find a way to break through.

He hissed when he was promptly pushed against the wall, temple assaulted by tiny sharp stones. An arrow pressed against the bit of throat that was untouched by the collar.

“What the fuck are you doing, Dick?” hissed Roy into his ear and Dick closed his eyes, keeping the frustrated sigh from escaping and tried to find the words he actually wanted to say. But all he could think about were the mercenaries.  

“If you deny it,” Roy snarled and Dick could feel the tip of the arrow sizzle with energy.

“Don’t,” he cried out, voice too high and breathy when the tip touched the collar and he fought himself out of the grasp, pushing him away with his heartbeat thundering in his chest. Roy crossed his arms, a nasty sneer on his lips.

“Oh look, he can talk and he is scared. What a surprise!”

Dick held back a comment about Roy’s former condition, knowing it would not help.

“Shut up,” he hissed back, anger overcoming him so easily, “I’m not here to fight with you. I’m here for Wally.”

Roy rolled his eyes.

“I know, otherwise you would not do this,” but the calmness in his voice disappeared quickly replaced by incredulity and anger, “ _Are you insane?_ ”

Dick ignored him even when Roy grabbed him by the shoulders.

“I contacted Kaldur! You have only informed them about your whereabouts twice! What are you thinking!” boomed Roy, shaking him.

Dick kept his gaze on the darkness in front of them.

“Kaldur was nearly flipping his shit after those two messages! First one full with codes and the second one as if you were on summer vacation?! How many codes were those anyway?”

Dick rolled his eyes, even though he felt bad for doing that to Kaldur.

“Technically I am on summer vacation and well,” he trailed off and squinted, “five, six perhaps only four codes?”

Before Roy could say more or explode from anger, Dick spoke up again.

“Are we following the path or are we going to wait?”

Roy narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth but followed his gaze.

“We go further in. If we find the MFD’s it will be easier to walk out another way and if not they will surely find us,” said Roy and pulled him forward on his shoulder, a sneer on his face again, “Don’t think Wilson wasted so much time with you to set you free now.”

Dick narrowed his eyes at him in return. Roy had reasons to speak like that and Dick knew he kind of deserved it. No one knew he was with Slade and the only thing keeping Slade from pursuing only his own goals was the contract.  

“It’s nice that you finally seem to care again but I have everything under control,” he hissed back, ripping his shoulder out of his grip. Expect he had not. Especially not when Slade touched him or when Rose was involved.  

“Right,” Roy said, hand on the wall, “I can totally see that. You are the silent lap dog.”

“Your ex-girlfriend chose the better term. I don’t sit in his lap after all,” he spat back and Roy raised his eyebrow provocatively. Dick kept another comment back, fearing Roy would realize how he had really paid.

He had not thought how it would look to others during the mission.  

“Adeline sees me every few weeks, she will know if I have to get out,” he said and knew he was blatantly lying but Roy would not leave it be if he did not. “And I can leave anytime I want.”

Roy laughed, looking at the collar. “Sure.”

“It’s only for missions,” he hissed back and stopped when he saw something unusual on the wall, “If I am unmasked during a fight against one of us they will think I am being forced, instead of believing I have betrayed them.”

“Oh, they will think it?”

“Roy,” Dick snapped but Roy never listened to him.

“Or will he take you as his hostage and blow you up if we don’t let him have what he wants?” Roy asked, turning him around and Dick was sure Slade would not activate the explosives around his neck but there were other possibilities, “And then they find out why you did it and you know who will blame themselves the most? Kaldur and Artemis. _Wally._ We will be the one to pick up your bloody burned pieces.”

“Trust me a bit,” Dick responded, putting as much power and firmness behind it as he could. Roy opened his mouth again.

“ _Roy._ ”

Another gritting of teeth.

“Trap?” the redhead asked instead, arms crossing over his chest.

Dick nodded and slowly felt along the wall until he could dip into the indentation.

“Could be a door but I don’t think it will open from this side.”

Roy came closer and nodded in agreement.

“Perhaps a sphere?” he asked with a frown and Dick shrugged. It could be. The floor was slightly tilting downwards and it was a small corridor, there was also only one path they could take.

“We have to go the first right turn anyway and if we are careful we might be able to evade the triggers,” he explained thoughtfully, hoping he was right. It would make everything easier.

“There isn’t anything else we can do, so” Roy shrugged, looking for him to lead the way and Dick would have swollen with pride years ago.

It turned out careful would not help them. A long stretching beep echoed through the cave when they were a few steps away, the sound stabbing right into their eardrums. It still rang through their heads moments later, robbing them of their hearing as they held their heads in pain.

Dick felt the vibrations under his feet anyway and he pulled Roy with him forcefully as fast as he could. There were a few times they lost their footing, a few other lasers were getting activated in a longer interval but it was possible to evade them with their skill and the amount of adrenalin that was pushing through their bodies. Their hearing was slowly returning and Dick wished it was not.

Dick slid past the right corridor, the ground too steep and the only thing keeping them alive was the arrow in Roy’s hand when he drove it into the wall of the corridor, catching his hand. Dick gritted his teeth when the spikes of the sphere ripped through the fabric on his back. Roy pulled him into the corridor as he got his bearing back.

“You alright?” asked Roy even though he was already looking at his back and Dick nodded, not feeling any pain.

“Nearly like old days, huh?” asked Roy smirking and Dick rolled his eyes.

“If you had joined the team,” Dick said pointedly and Roy raised his hands, hoping to be spared. Dick smirked at him.

The lasers were getting quicker and had longer intervals the further they walked but their experience was enough to get away nearly undamaged. Evading the lasers was becoming a habit and they barely had to think about it, simply adjusting to the rhythm. It was like training all over again, only that Dick could do what he wanted.

“Have you already gotten an accelerator?” Dick asked after they had left the last laser field behind and Roy shook his head.

“We will have it soon but to get the money for it takes longer than we thought and convincing Palmer was not easy either. I had to go alone.”

“No stealing one?” Dick asked, sidestepping a laser that randomly shot out of the wall.

“We might not be real heroes to you just because we don’t join your club anymore but that does not mean we steal,” snapped Roy and this time it was Dick raising his hands.

“You know I did not mean it like that.”

“Sure,” Roy responded icily.

Dick kept silent for a moment not wanting to fight but then he easily bumped their shoulders together and smirked.

“Hey, Cheshire suggested it, am I right?”

Roy rolled his eyes at him but Dick knew he was right by the hint of a smile on Roy’s lips.

A crack sounded again and Dick sighed, expecting a wall or a sphere when he suddenly felt the earth under his feet giving in and he was barely able to step away. Roy reacted the same but this time it was the earth under his feet that cracked open. They gritted their teeth, not moving when they stood in safe spots then they began running again and Dick really hoped this was the last trap.

He jumped when the earth fell away, rolling off real stone and turned around wildly when he did not hear another body hit the hard ground. Roy was standing on a small spot a few feet away, balancing on it and Dick’s stomach dropped.

“Do you have a rope? One of the grabbling arrows?” he asked instantly.

“Would I stand here if I had?” Roy asked incredulously, the panic was evident in his voice and Dick licked his lips nervously. He had never asked for his grabbling gun, only getting one when Slade deemed it necessary.  

“You have to jump. I’ll catch you. I promise.”

Roy looked at him in silence and pressed his lips together.

“You could do this but I can’t, Dick.”

Dick crouched down on the edge, not listening.

“You can. You were Speedy,” he said calmly, “We are the only people who use rooftops to get around. If we can’t do this, nobody can.”

Roy looked at him for a long moment before nodding slowly, trying to place both feet better on the ground and then threw his bow and his arrows at him. Dick caught them and placed them beside him. For a second Roy looked hesitant but then he breathed through and jumped. Dick caught his hand, slipping forward until his upper body was nearly over the edge. The spikes on his boots were the only thing preventing them from falling into the dark abyss. Roy looked up at him with wide eyes, reaching for his other hand without looking down. They were clammy.

“How are you even keeping up?” Roy asked, a panicked laugh escaping his throat, but it was hard for Dick to say something while he tried to keep his upper body tense when Roy climbed up on him. He nearly lost his strength when Roy had to stop with his hands at his shoulders to get his legs up. Thankfully Roy helped him up from the edge and Dick breathed through deeply.

They kept holding onto each other for a second, their fingertips leaving bruises on each other’s skin.

“Well, that was fun.”

Roy hit him over the head without meaning it.

It was the last trap they encountered before they reached the inner rooms and the alien technology was easy to find in the grand hall even though the aliens had left a lot more down here among them the containers they had used to activate the meta-gene.

Roy and he did not have to communicate before they begun to destroy the devices, knowing it was better off gone than used. The MFD were next until only one remained.

“Do you really want this to be in his hands?”

Dick looked up at Roy as he secured the disruptor on a cart.

“Slade might be a,” Dick hesitated just a second, “villain but he doesn’t want to destroy the earth. We both know that.”

Roy could not deny his words so he kept silent, choosing a way to get them out. Just when they had decided on a path, the others contacted Roy. Dick raised an eyebrow.

“We are fine,” Roy spoke, listening intently, “And we have it, we chose the second way, where are you?”

Roy grumbled, probably speaking to Cheshire.

“Alright, we’ll meet in the middle,” Roy ended the transmission.

“You did not feel compelled to tell me we had a communicator?”

“It had no signal before,” Roy said, shrugging and Dick frowned but accepted the answer.

They started to walk further in silence and soon came into an environment that had water trickling down the walls, with plants swirling up stone.

“You won’t tell them, promise me,” Dick spoke up, giving his friend time to respond when silence was his answer, then Roy finally nodded.

“Do what you want but if we have Wally back,” Roy said threatening, “I will stop this charade if you don’t.”

Dick did not reply. He would not let him reveal anything to anyone. It was not Roy’s decision.

They kept silent from then on, not knowing when the others would join them and walked further into the labyrinth.

It smelled sweeter now, a bit like some of Ivy’s plants and Dick could practically feel the pollen sticking to his lungs. By the scrunched up face, Roy was realizing that something was wrong as well.

“Do you have your breather?” he asked and Roy twitched under his gaze before shaking his head nearly guiltily. Dick pushed his own breather into his hand. The others would contact Roy, not him. Begrudgingly Roy took it, not complaining and Dick was glad because by now it felt as if he was breathing silk just one long fabric trying to curl in his lungs. He wanted to gag, to stop breathing.

He knew it was only a hallucination but it was always hard to remember when one felt like dying. His lungs were expanding air never enough to fill them.  

Dick was slowly getting anxious. The effect of the plants was growing stronger with every passing minute. He had to keep his hand on the wall to keep from falling over while the ground kept forming uneven waves. His sight mixed together in a multitude of colors his mind could not fully grasp, colors blinking in and out of existence. It was nothing tragic but enough to get completely lost in the labyrinth.

When Roy realized how bad it was he wanted to take the breather out of his mouth but Dick shook his head, pressing his hand against it.

“Keep it. One of us has to have full control of his senses and I don’t know how much or how fast the breather would help me now.”

God, he was not really sure if he had said those words, the sentence was so long and felt like a rope being pulled out of his throat but he turned away from Roy again. Hoping the footsteps echoing in his mind belonged to them or the others and not something that would attack them.

His fingers seemed to sink into the wall, melting the stone underneath. He was dropping through the structure, the blinking colors bleeding together and forming a dull gray of walls.  

The mercenaries looked up at them, faces twisting as if a higher power could not decide what they should look like. Dick still recognized the terror but the concept of the word evaded him, making him step forward in interest.

Hands fell onto his shoulders as if he was supposed to sink into the floor. They were crushing him, making him falter and skin to his knees. “You let this happen,” a synthesized voice told him.

His hand rose, weapon safely held in his hand.

“You betrayed me.”

The safety clicked off.

“Are you happy now? You finally got away.”

He smiled.

“You made a deal.”

The voice echoed in his mind, mixing with his own until it was a mantra in his head. It was coaxing, a gentle reminder.

“One life, just one tiny unimportant life.”

He stared into the eyes of his friends, beaten up and struggling against their bonds. One of them snarled the loudest, green eyes flashing and bloody teeth barred.

“I told you, ” he said – no, Slade – _Slade, Slade, Slade_ , “Pay for it.”

His finger croaked from alone even when he fought against it. He could not plead. His throat was filled with blood. He hit the floor while he looked into dead eyes, his own blood mixing with theirs. Something grasped him by the throat; unseeing milky eyes gazed into his own, blood dropped onto his face as the corpse spoke wetly.

“Was it worth it?”

He was ripped back by the shoulder, crashing against the wall and his fist stopped right in front of the mask he realized was so familiar. His mouth opened perhaps to say something. He was not sure because breathing was suddenly becoming even harder. He gagged. His vision was swimming and when he stumbled Slade was behind him, steadying him.

“I’ll handle it. We have to get out of here.”

Dick winced at those words. It felt as if they were grinding right into his skull or opening it up. No matter what, the feeling was severely disgusting.

Dick felt a breather being pushed between his teeth. For a few seconds he did not breathe at all, the air tasted wrong, dead fingers prying his mouth open. He forced himself to drag air into his lungs when Slade raised his chin to establish eye contact. The color of his eye was swirling like a maelstrom of quicksilver.

“Relax, let your shoulders drop,” Slade commanded but Dick had a hard time deciding if he had screamed or whispered. The hand on his chest felt as if it was sinking through the fabric, ready to kill. A croaked sound escaped his throat, knowing he should not talk, trying to make him understand that he couldn’t. “Let the air out, kid. I got you.”

The hand guided his own to the broad chest and Dick felt him exhale and inhale. He fell back against the hand on his shoulder, closing his eyes as he sagged together, still held by his enemy. And he breathed, in and out.  

He let himself be manhandled, breathing and setting one foot in front of the other. His vision returned slowly as they walked but he kept his gaze on the ground, nausea had overcome him and his body was as heavy as lead.  

He whimpered when they stepped outside, air and sun picking at his skin as if a thousand needles were pushed under to peel it right off. The grip around his waist grew firmer when he nearly sunk to his knees and he slipped a bit when Slade pried the breather out between his lips.

His lungs filled with fresh air again. They expanded as if previously glued together. It took a bit longer for his vision to return normal, his eyes not ready for the sun but once that happened, he slowly found his footing again. He was still leaning against Slade despite it, his arm trapped over the broad shoulders. The arm around his waist tugged him nearer when he stumbled. His too heavy head rested against the strong frame.

Roy caught his gaze as he carried the MFD with Jason. It was full of concern and suspicion. Before they reached civilization he untangled himself from Slade with a reluctance he would never admit to himself. Roy relaxed ever so slightly.

It was not long after that they separated from the trio in the nearby town. They would contact Slade once the accelerator was in their hands.  

“I think the pollen left my lungs completely” he informed him when they changed into civilian clothes at a rather rundown hotel. The dizziness and the swimming vision were gone so that seemed like a good indication.

“Let me be the judge of that” Slade responded, walking towards him to angle his head upwards, flashing a light into his eyes to test their reaction.  

“We will test the substance when we are back. Better if we know what it is,” Slade said, picking out a sterile swab and Dick opened his mouth to let him take a sample. He was pretty sure the pollen had not collected in his mouth but perhaps there were some remains. Slade frowned when securing the stick and his head was tilted back further, a thumb pressing into his chin and the other settling on his shoulder. His eyes widened slightly when it felt heavier than it should, the hallucination feeling real for the flash of a second.

“You don’t feel anything unusual when you swallow, do you?” Slade asked and Dick looked at him questioningly, trying to squash the images and the panic down, “Your throat is fiery red. It should be swollen.”

Dick licked his lips when Slade led go of his chin, swallowing but not feeling anything but dread. Why was the feeling returning now? He had not killed them, would never kill anyone. Not even for this damn contract.

There was breath at his ear, a hand digging into his chest and the smell of morgue in his nose. The breath he was trying to force into his lungs was not filled with enough air. If Bruce knew what he was doing, Bruce would – will –

There was no word for it. He could not lose him. Not Bruce. If he lost Bruce he would lose so much more. Tim. Babs. Clark. His family.

Tears were streaming down his face. He had killed even if he had not pulled the trigger. Families who would never get their loved ones back. And he knew so well how loss felt.

“Dick.”

He blinked, biting his lip to stop it from quivering. Since when was he crying so much?

“Let me check your airways.”

He did not complain so Slade took the initiative, warm hands pushing under his shirt, expertly sweeping over his chest and pressing into his flesh.

“Tell me if something hurts.”

Everything hurt. Nothing of it physical.

Slade did not comment on his wildly beating heart, on the tears starting to stream down his face. It was pathetic but he could not stop. The hands rested on his chest for longer than necessary, thumbs leaving a prickling trail behind when Slade swept them down his body and he reacted to the touch even though it was killing him.

Slade was a monster and he was groomed to be one as well. He had let them die.

A hand settled on his head, entangling in his hair as if Slade could not decide if he should pull him away or comfort him for real.  

“Could you not have left me home?”

Slade tensed, his mouth forming a hard impassive line.

They took the next plane and Dick sunk back into the seat, sunglasses hiding his reddened eyes. An elderly woman looked at him in appreciation and he smiled back with a slight quirk to his lips. She probably thought Slade was his father or his grandfather. The thought made him sick.

Dick had not said a word since his meltdown. Slade had not either. With a bit of luck, it would stay just another unspoken event between them.    

“Roy found out,” he told him carefully, observing his reaction. Slade did not look away from the window but the gray eye was locked onto him through the reflection. He had expected anger but Slade only smiled.

“Not telling me would have given you an advantage,” Slade stated and Dick looked at him in confusion, “And you didn’t even think about it.”

Dick averted his eyes. He had needed to tell him, doubts were eating at him and he needed confirmation that this was still worth it.

“I told you to keep your guard up,” Slade went on and a shiver run down his spine when a black strand was brushed behind his ear, fingertips trailing down his neck, “I am not interested in a mindless easily breakable puppet.”

Dick kept his mouth shut, fingers curling around the armrest and picking at the plastic with his nails. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There **won’t be a chapter next week** because I had too little time to correct two chapters this weekend. I will try to uphold the update frequency but it could be that this will turn into one update per every two weeks considering nearly all following chapters are around 5.000 to +6.000 words.


	20. No Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I began this story more than a year ago and there were times I felt as if it was going nowhere or worse that the story just wasn't good, which is why it took a long time before I started to publish it. So thanks again for every Kudo, every bookmark and especially for the comments. They are what keeps me going. 
> 
> This chapter was a monster to correct especially as someone whose native language is not English. I should really find a beta but that has always been problematic for me. 
> 
> Future chapters will have the same length which is why as of now there will be updates every twice weeks on Sunday.

Weeks passed and Dick encountered Slade less than before. The mercenary constantly leaving him in Wintergreen’s care for days, disappearing onto long missions alone and coming back bloodied or angry, most times both. Always returning to his office without as much as a glance until they trained on the few occasions Slade stayed longer than a few hours.

Wintergreen never let slip if he knew why. It was easy to blame the long missions on the Light, so Dick was glad to stay out of them but it made him nervous. Even the bits of information he had before, had not left him as blind as to what was going on around him.

Since the flight he had no idea what Slade wanted from him. How was he supposed to give his loyalty to him and his respect to the relationship between Rose and Slade if he was expected to betray him?

Telling Slade about Roy had not been unintentional, had not been said while he looked through red tinged glasses. His friend would do more harm than good if he started to get involved. No matter what he did now, Roy would be against it. It was also a lot better if Slade knew about Roy's newfound knowledge than realizing it because Roy was an overbearing protector with all the subtlety of a brick to the face.

Dick stared at the clock on the opposite wall. Six o'clock in the morning. One hour had passed since he had woken up. It was still dark outside. Without Slade he barely felt exhausted enough to sleep. Wintergreen was no real match for him as a training partner, even if it could not be denied that the man had been a soldier once. It was hard to sneak up on him and he knew a lot of tricks.

Sometimes Dick just listened to the stories the man would tell while doing his own routine. By now Dick even knew that Wintergreen had an adopted son who was a bit older than him and sometimes worked with Slade too as his arms dealer. He never got a name, though, only knew that he was African-American. As much as Wintergreen seemed to accept and even enjoy his presence, he was not trusted. If anything the man also distanced himself the longer Slade ignored him.

It was the second reason why his sleep remained short and restless.

Maybe he could sneak out just this time. Slade was not back after all and Wintergreen would not realize he had been gone if he was back by breakfast.  

His plan was short lived when he heard Wintergreen's voice drift up from the kitchen as soon as he stepped out of the bedroom. Years of training let him move over the wooden tiles silently and he kept in the shadows as he watched the veteran. He looked older than ever with the telephone pressed to his ear.

“We have been through this often enough,” his voice left no argument, “I will drive up as soon as he is back. She was with you for far too long.”

A short flash of anger crossed his face as the person on the other end answered. It could only be Adeline and the conversation could only be about Rose. It had been a few long weeks without the girl for all of them. Dick wondered how he had missed connecting Slade’s emotional state to her absence. It was so obvious.

“I am not sacrificing her for his sake. He has lived long enough,” Wintergreen’s voice was icy, resentment swinging in his words and it was silent for a breath, then he spoke on “but we both know she wants to stay with her father.”

Adeline was growing louder at the other end but Dick could not make out a word. The words had not been said to calm her down as much was obvious but now Wintergreen had the same tired expression on his face again. It was a shocking revelation to know even Wintergreen was rooting against Slade.

“Enough" the man bellowed, nearly making Dick jump "Slade does not have your luxuries.”

A stable job? That she was able to see Rose while Slade had not talked to Joey in years? And why was he defending him now instead of earlier?

Dick did not linger when Wintergreen walked deeper into the kitchen, hissing something into the phone. He silently sneaked out, it would only be dark for another half an hour and he did not want to be caught eavesdropping.

Getting onto the roof was no problem even without a grappling hook and he stayed there with the wind blowing around him. Even to him it was calming to hear Rose would come back soon if not today. He wanted to listen to the stories she would tell. Joey and Adeline had surely entertained her over the past month.

His short disappearance went unnoticed and he stepped back into the house to Wintergreen bustling around to make breakfast. The phone lay forgotten on the kitchen counter but his expression still showed his irritation.

“This looks delicious. You do not have to outdo yourself every morning,” he stated when he got a good look at the English breakfast and Wintergreen smiled.

“You praise my skills every time. It’s the least I can do.”

Dick grinned, thankful that Alfred was so reluctant to take compliments that they had all learned to praise every small detail about his food just to spite the poor man, who would forever not just be a butler to them no matter how hard he tried.

Slade returned during breakfast, the tension in his shoulders easing when Wintergreen mentioned he would take the car to pick Rose up from Adeline. Dick watched him go while he picked his egg apart.

“We’ll file information today” Slade spoke up “A few folders have to be reorganized and looked over. Some information has to be added, the normal gist. I expect you to know what to do. What to write, what to leave out.”

There was no room for complaint. To have access to information Slade possessed was a milestone. It was also relaxing work, not always easy but relaxing though he had to admit it was strange to have real files of paper in his hands instead of digital files in the Bat-computer. Somehow it fitted Slade to stay with a near archaic system even though Dick knew there had to be a computer somewhere.

He nearly swallowed the pen between his lips when he opened the file of the prison mission when he saw the sum of money. He pushed upright again, had not bothered to sit on the chair like a normal person for more than a second. What could have been so important to give him more than half a million?

“The code was important for more than just her. She would have given me a million if you had not been an unknown factor,” Slade explained, marking the passage of the file in front of him with a finger, “It’s a pain to keep her away. She knows something doesn’t sit right with you and she is impressed by your skill, wanted to hire you for a few other missions.”

“Why didn’t you let her?”

Slade leaned back in his chair, a slight up tilt to his lips.

“Because your first kill belongs to me.”

Dick bit the inside of his lip, schooling his features to indifference even though Slade was looking right through it without even trying.

“And if she finds out who you are, she will get Batman right into our path. I didn’t think that was something you wanted.”

It wasn’t. Bruce would know and he could not do that to him right after Jason, could not face the anger and disappointment while he was still trying to bring his best friend back.

Dick did not comment, flipping to the next page instead, as he listened to Slade starting to write again. Only then did he relax. The mission had not been good but better than knowing Slade had killed.

Had his family gotten the drawings? When he was home he had to find them, make sure that they knew how their husband and father had died. Everyone deserved to have certainty.  

“Does she care for family?” he asked, closing the file and standing up to place it back on the board, taking Slade’s three finished files with him to steal a glance. All of them were missions for the Light.

“Not specifically,” Slade answered, watching him, “but she cares for people if they are loyal to her. It seemed he was, otherwise she would not have planned to get him out of there.”

Dick nodded. When he had left the piece of paper with her he had not believed she would give the paper a second glance even if he had hoped. Dick knew from his own experience that something to remember was better than nothing, even if it hurt.

Dick picked up a few of the other files Slade had told him to look at, most of them involving the security system LexCorp used and two other missions he had been on. When he sprawled back into the chair Slade was on the verge of rolling his eye.

Dick stretched when he let the last file fall to the ground beside him, looking up at Slade who was working on his fifth one. It seemed to be the longest mission.

The tension in his body had ceased completely, head held up by a hand on his cheek. If not for the white hair and the eye patch Slade would look like any other moody employee. But the tension had not come from anger. It was fear, fear of losing Rose every time she was away.

Dick watched and Slade wrote. The clock ticked. It would have gone on like that if he had not started to drift, every blink slower than the last. Maybe his sleep would have been fitful if he had just let his body do what it wished but what would it say about him to sleep while Slade was here and stay awake when Slade was not?

His own problems were growing and even though he hoped Rose would make everything better, he knew Rose brought her own problems with her. He had not forgotten what he had said though. Slade would never be a good father but perhaps he could be a decent one with a major flaw.  

Dick stood up again to lay the files back into the drawer, locking his jaw when a yawn threatened to escape. The whole wall was filled with drawers but they did not collect every mission Slade had ever been on. It was a trophy room of paperwork.

“Do you ever think about your daughter’s future?” Dick asked, shutting the drawer with his waist, crossing his arms in front of his chest to face him.

“Dick.”

The warning in his voice was clear, even though Slade did not look up from his file as if it was already an automatic response.

Dick leaned back against the cupboard, huffing.

“I get why you don’t want to lose her. I know you think Adeline tries to take her away from you like she did with Joey and Grant.”

It was not phrased the right way. They both knew Slade was not just imagining the outcome. It was a fact. He would never see Rose again once she was freed from his influence.

“She will never succeed with Rose and she hardly helped Grant with her actions. Perhaps she made it worse. Perhaps she made the same mistake you are making with Rose,” he said, settling back down into the chair. Slade finally looked up. No denial left his lips. Maybe they were past that. Maybe Slade thought it was a waste of breath. “I know you don’t want to but get her enrolled in school, let her have something that is hers.”

Slade stared blankly at him. He knew Slade saw no reason. Today Rose would come back. Everything was fine. But in the long run, it would hurt her. Dick knew solitude.  

“It’s not about taking away your influence. It’s about showing her the broader scale. You do want her to choose, don’t you?” he asked. Dick called it a win when he saw the strong jaw tense.

“I know you do. You love her.”

He had said those words before but never to him and Slade tensed. The word love got them every time, did not matter if it was Bruce, if it was Roy, if it was a young Jason or even Tim. Sometimes he had the irrational thought to shake them and make them understand that love wasn’t something they needed to be threatened by.

“Rose will always come to you for guidance, you are her father, but don’t make her dependent,” Dick said firmly and the word dependent made Slade straighten even more, “Don’t be the only person she can turn to. Don’t use her. Don’t make her give everything she has to you until nothing of her remains. If you get that far and she gets away – and she will, I promise you that - then you lost. Her, the only remaining person in the world who really loves you.”

The pen cracked between his fingers, though Dick could not say if his simple words or the underlying threat had garnered the reaction.

“You know I’m right.”

The seconds passed by in silence while Dick waited for an answer even when it became apparent it would not come. Slade let the broken pen fall into the bin beside his desk.

“The Mississippi Kidnapping Mission from L. Bernhard, give me the file.”  

Dick stared at him and Slade looked back, a picture of calm even though Dick had just charged him up with anger through words he had never thought he would say to him. Before he could free himself of his rigor Slade stood up instead pf waiting for him to move.

“Our next mission seems to be connected to the two metahumans that were created during the kidnapping.”

Dick looked at the pictures while Slade told him what they would possibly encounter.

The first time Diana had talked to Bruce about his young age and the dangers of Gotham it had ended the same way. Bruce had dismissed her words with a new case of the League but in the end he had been left home more often than not.

He had always felt that there was only a - dangerous - thin line between them even though their life could not have less in common. If Slade cared only half as much for Rose as Bruce cared for all of them the mercenary would at least take part of his words at face value.

Dick hoped he would, hoped more than he dared to admit.

Rose welcomed them as warmly as she had left them, jumping out of the car before Wintergreen had properly parked to get into the arms of her father who raised her up into the air with a barely hidden smile. Dick tousled through her long hair when she settled her head against her father’s shoulder and she let out a giggle, swatting his hand away.

“I missed you,” she said, still clutching onto her father’s arms even when her feet had touched the ground again.

“All of you,” she said close to saintly, looking back at Wintergreen, who walked to them with an exaggerated shake of his head.

Lunch involved Rose excitedly talking about the last week but it was still obvious how much she tried to leave out Adeline’s name. Joey was doing well. He was still a bit shy but Dick knew how many people his friend really attracted. The number of girlfriends he had been involved with was pretty impressive or worrisome depending on how people wanted to see it.

“I made Joey draw me a picture,” Rose said proudly and Dick had no time mulling over the phrasing when she pulled it out of her case.

Slade and he tensed as if someone had stabbed them in the back. The smile on her face drifted away and her hand sank in indecision, gaze flicking between him and her father.  

“It’s beautiful,” Wintergreen finally saved the situation. His chuckle was warm, his eyes crinkling. Dick glanced at the hand squeezing his shoulder, Slade doing the same thing. “Did he do all this out of memory?”

Rose shrugged with a tiny move of her shoulder and Slade met his gaze, barely tilting his head to look around Wintergreen.

“I sat beside him.”

“So that’s why you look best,” Dick forced out with a wink as he evaded her father’s gaze. Her smile was back but most important her enthusiasm was back.

“He told me he knew everyone well enough but he did show me some of the old pictures where he was as little as me! It was a family picture with Grant. I gave him the picture of my mother so he could draw her properly.”

Rose clutched the frame tighter, a serene smile on her face.

“He was confused when I told him to draw Dick too and even had the audacity to tell me it would not be a good idea.”

Dick was pretty sure Adeline had gotten a heart attack when she had seen the picture and Joey tried to be the voice of reason, sadly his friend was prett  

* * *

bad at convincing anyone to not do anything.

“He showed me pictures of you two!” she smirked, “You were so small!”

Dick grimaced, sinking further into his chair at the devilish smile on her face. Obviously a brat like her would make fun of his height.

“So this picture is” Slade begun but his daughter beat him to it.

“A family picture.”

Slade would kill him, Dick was sure.

“Then why did you want Dick included?” asked Slade and his tone did not quite nail the right voice to keep from being menacing or his mind was starting to play tricks on him because Rose did not seem to notice the slight edge in her father’s voice.

“I like him and you like him too,” she stated bluntly.

Silence washed over them and Rose caught the change quickly, looking at her father quizzically. Dick did not dare to breathe or look at Slade. He was suddenly glad for Wintergreen between them.

Slade hummed. It sounded dangerous to Dick, even when the broad shoulders relaxed again.

“I guess the reason is good enough.”

Rose was beaming; a big smile on her lips and Dick stared at Slade in something akin to shock while he could feel the worried gaze of Wintergreen on his skin. Again Dick wondered how much the man knew and he warily looked up into his eyes. The man reassuringly squeezed his shoulder and took their dishes into the kitchen. This interaction was officially freaking him out and he was glad when Slade and Rose disappeared in the training room, the girl wanting to show her father what she had learned and Slade all too willing to spend time with her. He was gladly forgotten for the moment and got away before either could notice his absence.

Dick was not going to dwell on a picture Joey should have never drawn if Slade did not see it as a personal attack.

He returned to the study to read the file for their next contract Slade had been talking about. Hours of file reading had let it look rather unappealing considering it was a few pages thick but Slade had kept things from him often enough. If he could get every detail just this once he had to take the chance.

Other possibilities entered his mind when he entered the room. The Canada mission had not been among the files they had revised. Slade had hardly given him a real answer when he had asked and the written Canada on the drawer was staring back at him as if it simply wanted to be opened. It was not as if he was doing something Slade had prohibited. Well, nothing he had prohibited explicitly.

Three files were listed for Lex Luthor. Dick ignored the other two, scanning the text for a reason to change the initial plan.

_Batman was contacted by an anonymous tip. It would not be an advantage for the contract to let Emelie Akinloye die. Lex Luthor only paid for one life._

It was not the best reason he could imagine but he had not expected Slade to keep her alive out of his kind-heartedness. He skimmed over more text nearly missing the passage he had really searched for.

_Killing so soon was a risk but the only way to show him what’s at stake. Too much too soon might make him resist further._

It should not shock him. It was a logical reason but the word resist rubbed him the wrong way. It made Roy sound right. Slade had not wasted his time with him to simply let him go. The realization was like a punch in the gut because he had lived in denial all along. He was here now and Slade would make him pay.

He breathed through, closing his eyes for a second. It was an unreasonable reaction. They had a contract, not a relationship, Slade had told him to keep his guard up and he was trying his best. But since when had his best ever been good enough?

He shook his head, grabbed the file for the next mission. The report was not able to hold his attention for long. He had to stop himself from throwing it against the next best surface.

It was a money exchange for a hostage situation and he knew people would die. Slade always killed his enemies.

Why was he here? Why had he thought this was a good idea? He couldn’t stand by this, couldn’t watch him kill without trying to stop him. Not again, not after the soldiers.

He stood up again but he came up empty-handed when he searched for the file belonging to the barkeeper. A bounty had been on his head. Slade had planned to kill all along. There had to be one somewhere.  

His gaze caught the only drawer that had no country inscription, secured with a pat. It was not supposed to be opened least of all by him. He did not say “Fuck this shit” like Roy would or Artemis, cursing had never been for him but the meaning of it filled his mind. It was enough to ignore the consequences.

To hack into the system was not easy. It nearly got him a few times when he tried to hack the code and he finally tried it with Slade’s fingerprints that would give him access to the pat. Wintergreen had looked at him with suspicion when he had taken a used glass with him but he had not been confronted.

Maybe he was supposed to find something. Maybe it was the only reason why Slade had not already stepped into the room to do god knows what. Maybe he already had found what he was supposed to find. Dick didn’t care, didn’t stop like Bruce and Tim even Barbara would have.

Half an hour after getting the fingerprints the drawer finally opened. If it was no setup, if it was not something Slade had planned, he had done something Slade might even kill him for. He could not say he cared. The contract would still stand. Roy knew he was here. If Slade wanted defiance he would get it.      

The files were only stacked and his own name practically slapped him in his face. He had known all of them would be personal files but he had not expected to find his own. The file was thick, the corners were tattered. It felt heavy in his hands, even heavier than it already was. Dick bit his lip, hard, wondering if he really wanted to know what Slade knew about him or thought he knew. In the end he began to search for the barkeeper file without looking into it.

He expected nothing but not quite so literally, the clear business reason was nullified by a firm line that had pressed through the thin paper. The date of death differed in its writing, the numbers nearly carved into the paper and with sharper edges than the other words. It was not anger but it had clearly been written with purpose and enjoyment.

He let his fingers trail over the welling paper. They were calling him Trigger now but a gun did not shoot itself. Was this about him as a person or as someone who clearly belonged to Slade?

He flipped the file shut again. It was the contract. The barkeeper had attacked him while he was under protection and afterward, he had provided his service, an outlet for the anger, nothing more and nothing less.

The drawer was full of personal files, most of them old and all of them from the time before Slade had worked for the Light. The older the missions were, the more did it look like a treasure box instead of a simple drawer and he kept from opening any of them. They had nothing to do with him. Some of them were older than he. He let them fall back into place, glancing up at his own file just to graze something different than paper with his fingertips. Behind all the files lay a small etui, just big enough to harbor a quill.

He hesitated a second before clicking it open, stealing an unsure glance at the door and the time before parting the top from the bottom.

The name Rose Wilson was neatly written on a syringe filled with clear liquid. He knew what it was even without any other inscription.

Slade planned to give her the super soldier serum.

No wonder Adeline was so against Rose staying with him. She hated the serum, had always repeated to anyone who would listen, that it had changed Slade and Dick knew the serum was not the safest medicine.

It would be so easy to let it fall, consequences be damned. He opened his palm, watched it roll to his fingertips.

“Do you really think this is a good idea?”

He raised his gaze to Slade, closing his fingers around the syringe.

“She is just a child.”

His voice was tinted with anger and breathy with disbelief as he took a step towards the desk. The silver gaze dropped to his hand before Slade focused back on him.

“She won’t get it yet,” Slade replied.

“Oh, really? How long will you wait?” Dick asked, “Until she is old enough or until you feel threatened enough by Adeline?”

“It doesn’t concern you,” said Slade in warning, each word pronounced with care.

They both knew he would not back down. It was the reason why Dick stayed behind the desk with Slade in front of it. The issue about Rose had been left untouched for too long. It was just another potential for conflict and they would dissolve it today. He was sick of this. Rose deserved so much more.

“You know it’s not right! You know what the serum did to you! The rage, the insanity,” Dick growled, grip around the syringe growing tighter, “You really want her to end like you, don’t you?”

A laugh escaped his throat.

“You want her to be the same murder machine. The same emotionally constipated person you became. Because it’s really just about you,” Dick spoke, leaning forward, hand on the desk but syringe out of Slade’s reach, “I thought you actually care! That you love her! But she is just another weapon in your ever-growing collection.”

Dick rolled the syringe between his fingers as he stared at him. A fall would not break it. A throw? Maybe.

“I’m not going to stand by and watch you destroy her life. I don’t care if she is your daughter. Blood never meant something to you anyway.”

Silence rang around them as Dick toyed with the syringe behind his back, breath a little bit faster, muscles tense.

“Anything else you want me to know?”

Dick grit his teeth, eyes darkening. The syringe did not leave his fingertips when Slade reacted instantly, slamming his head into the table and if Dick had not learned to read him he would have crumbled with a broken nose, instead he turned, swinging his legs up and locking them around Slade’s throat. The twist of his whole body was barely enough to move Slade out of the way and his head was slammed down into the wood. His vision turned dark for a moment, temple throbbing.

“Enough.”

The voice sent a chill down Dick’s spine and he tensed when a hand gripped his throat.

“I let you assume things you will never understand but don’t you dare try something so stupid ever again.”

Dick gripped the syringe tighter.

“Rose is my daughter, not yours. I took the serum, not you. I make the decisions.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Dick shot back. He had gone too far to stop now even though the grip grew stronger, next words already hurting more. “It doesn’t give you the right to decide over her!”

“Don’t forget your place,” Slade snapped back, fingers flexing dangerously around his throat, “I won’t let this slide.”

“Too much in one day?” Dick asked nastily, yanking at the hand around his neck, making it move a few millimeters. It was enough to get his upper body to move, to invade his space a tiny bit as Slade leaned over the desk. He could hear the wood splinter under the hand not occupied with crushing his windpipe. “She needs protection from you. She would kill herself without asking if she thought it’d make you happy! And you know it. Know that’s not normal.”

The grip around his throat had lessened more and more with every second he held onto his wrist, his body rising from the desk until they both stood straight again.

“She is perfectly fine,” Slade growled back, “Adeline and you are not doing this because of her wellbeing. You do it because your definition of right doesn’t align to mine.”

“Oh come on, Slade! Even someone like you should be able to admit what you are doing to her, how you treat her is not right!”

“You don’t decide about right and wrong. Isn't that why you have your oh so precious justice system that always prevents the wrong people from ever seeing the light of day again?" Slade asked mockingly, eye blazing. Dick snarled, bared his teeth.

“The serum is for soldiers! She is just a little girl with a childhood she has every right to live! Just because you missed it does not give you the right to take it from her!”

“She is a soldier! She is my daughter! I won’t pick up her corpse from the sidewalk because I denied her my healing powers!”

“As if that's your reason! You are not doing it to protect her! All you ever do is protect yourself! Your reputation! All you can do is kill, maim and destroy!”

"I know!"

“You,” Dick stopped the curse before it could leave his lips, mouth going slack as he registered the two simple words. He did not ask, did not force Slade to face the uncomfortable honesty because it would only backfire badly. By now he was the one keeping the hand around his throat in place. Slade breathed through, gathering himself.

“Grant was a tragedy. Nothing I controlled. You know, you were there. But if I had trained him, given him the serum, he might have survived. With Joey it was different. He was kidnapped. I risked his well-being as much as I knew he would not die. If I had let them live Joey would still have his voice. If I had told Adeline what I was doing then Joey wouldn’t have been in danger. I could not admit to myself that it was my fault. Not then. Not for a long time.”

Dick's gaze flickered to the black patch and Slade quirked his lips. No wonder Adeline had shot him, no wonder their kids had been damaged throughout their marriage and beyond.

"It happened because you did not care enough, not because you saved him from the serum."

The words garnered no reaction but Dick finally pulled his hand from his wrist and Slade hesitated to take it off his throat as if he had forgotten how they had gotten to his confession.

"Do you listen to yourself, kid?" where finally the words Slade spoke, "How often do you want to berate me while panting after the Bat's rules?"

"He taught me, but he was not everything I had," Dick shot back, a little spark of defense back in his voice.

“She has Wintergreen. She has Adeline. She has Joey.”

Maybe even you was left unspoken and Dick wanted to argue that it was not the same that Bruce had not tried to get those influences away from him but the click of the door kept him quiet, as he looked over Slade’s shoulder at Rose. She looked so tiny in the doorframe.

Slade looked at her as well and she twitched under their scrutiny even as she scrutinized their closeness while shuffling on the spot, nervously looking around. If nothing else she had heard them raising their voice.

"What is it?" Slade asked, turning further to his daughter who pouted at the dismissive words.

"I was just" she trailed off slowly, eyes widening and stepping forward. A light gasp was drawn out of her mouth before a brilliant grin spread over her face. She launched herself at her father arms clutching onto his neck while she giggled.

“Thank you, Daddy!” Rose called excitedly, kissing her father on the cheek. Dick could feel the blood drain from his face when upon slight confusion he realized this was her reaction to the serum. Slade was no less surprised but the expression was easily replaced by the hue of a smile. If Dick had not known about the circumstance he would have thought this was the perfect image of a happy family.

A shudder of repulsion ran through his body and he was out of the room before he made the conscious decision, not stopping even when Rose called after him. His fingertips grew cold from nausea.

Before he could step into the bedroom a hand pushed the door closed again. Dick frowned, staring at the wood.

"Look at me."

His jaw shifted but he tilted his head to Slade after a moment, looking into the ice like iris. Sometimes he wondered if the serum had also drained the color out of them.

"You should contemplate why you are here, Dick," the man said, pinning him with his clear gaze "I was honest with you but unlike Rose, I won’t confuse you for a family member. Another stunt like this and the contract is over."

Dick looked away. There was no reason for him to decide for her, not after Rose had made it obvious that she wanted it - even if it was wrong, even if she should at least have a good reason. He hoped she was not doing this because she knew her father wanted it. He hoped she was not doing this because she believed it was the only way to stay with him.  

"She won't get it now, though, nor in the near future," Slade said, "Should that be any reassurance to you, kid."

Dick could not read him, did not know why Slade would tell him but it was. As a teenager, even Rose would rebel against her father and as long as Wintergreen still had a hand in her upbringing that would be enough.

When Slade turned away Dick grabbed his wrist for a second time that day.

"Why? Why care to reassure me?"

Slade tilted his head.

"What do you think?"

Dick sighed. Did everything have to be a lesson?

"You did not expect her to react with such excitement."

"That same excitement," Slade added, "brought Grant to an early grave."

Dick hated it, he hated all of this. Had Slade planned this as well? Was he here to be the small voice of reason without power? The one to ground her excitement but not enough to blight it? It would not make sense. Slade had not wanted him around Rose at all. Did it even matter that he was here? Was it just a coincidence?

Dick pushed the door open.

"Don't leave her alone with the syringe then, before she does something stupid."

He took pen and paper to write to his team. It was about time they got another message otherwise they would grow worried. With the real mission finally beginning he could not let them find out about his real whereabouts. It was also the only thing he could structure his thoughts with.  

He failed to write anything of substance. It was not enough to fool them and still, he could never let them find out about the things he had done the past months. Bruce would hate him and the others would never take him back.

How could he ever make this right again?

The letter talked about the natural reserve as if it had been beautiful and calming to visit the island. He felt pretentious, a completely idiotic feeling because with a secret identity he had always lied. The letter was dropped into the bin on his way down, crumbled and words smeared.

He could not do this anymore. All he needed was to get out of here.

“Where--Where are you going?”

Dick looked up at Rose, catching sight of Slade soon after, who was leaning against the wall a few feet away. She had never spoken so hesitant before.

“Just for a walk,” he pressed out, trying to sound normal. She looked down onto the floor and he stood up, grasping the door handle.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Dick froze when he heard the slight quaver in her voice, carefully looking back at her and kneeling down when he could see the wet shimmer in her eyes. She did not know but she was breaking his heart.

“No,” he said quietly, pulling her into a hug because that was probably what he really needed, “I just--the past few weeks weren’t easy.”

Rose nodded against his chest and he stroked a few strands of hair out of her eyes, smiling softly at her.

“Can I come with you?” she asked and Dick bit his lip, mulling over the question. He wanted to be alone but he also wanted to talk to her so he raised his gaze to Slade for permission.

“Be back in an hour,” Slade responded and Dick nodded, giving the young girl her jacket and leaving with her. She took his hand instantly, showing him her favorite places in the town before hesitantly starting to speak when they had reached the empty playground.

“Can I talk to you about Addie? Daddy always grows sad when he hears me speak about her.”

He had never thought Adeline could make Slade sad instead of angry even though it made sense. They had been husband and wife after all, had been together for a long time and known each other even longer. Perhaps Slade still felt for her more deeply than he wanted to admit. Adeline had left him and not the other way around. Slade was still leaving Rose with her because he knew she was safe with her.

“Sure,” he affirmed with a genuine smile, settling down on the swing beside her, “I always want to hear about the things you do.”

Rose grinned and begun telling him about the trips they had made, the swing getting faster the more her excitement grew. He laughed when he heard about the safari and how they had encountered poachers that Adeline had taken out without much trouble. Rose had been happy about it too because they had saved a real elephant.

“I would like to make such a trip with Daddy too,” she said, looking up at the heavily clouded sky, “What do you think? Would he like Africa too or would it be better to go somewhere else?”

Dick shrugged.

“I don’t know. You should ask Wintergreen, not me. But I am certain he wants to spend time with you. You should tell him where you would like to go.”

Rose frowned thoughtfully, stopping the swing with her feet digging into the sand.

“I would like to see Cambodia again,” she said, a private smile on her lips, “I know it’s not the perfect magical place I remember but I just want to be there at least one more time.”

“Tell him,” he encouraged, knowing Slade would have a hard time saying no to her and Rose smiled, nodding and jumping off the swing. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and he raised his eyebrow at the gesture.

“I like you, I don’t want you to go,” she admitted and Dick sighed, returning the gesture with a kiss to her forehead.

“I have to,” he told her earnestly and refrained from talking about the serum. Rose was finally in a good mood again and if Slade trusted him enough to let her alone with him outside of the house he would get enough possibilities to speak about it soon enough.

“But you will still stay a bit longer, right?” she asked.

“I will.”

He would not give up now. It was too late to give up.

“There you are,” Wintergreen said when they stepped back into the house, “Care to help an old man in the kitchen, princess?”

Rose grinned, following him and Dick was not surprised to be cornered by Slade in the next moment. It had rained lightly on their way back and Dick brushed dripping strands out of his face, biting the inside of his cheeks as he waited.

“I still mean most of the things I said,” Dick stated, feeling the need to say at least that much after seconds of silence ticked by. He had never thought Slade might train Rose out of fear and Slade had probably intended for no one to find out. But it was clear now. Joey had gotten hurt because of his profession, Rose’s mother had been killed during an attack and Grant had started training too late with the wrong mindset to survive in their world.

“I know,” Slade responded and they could hear Wintergreen and Rose laugh, “The serum should be a choice and maybe school isn’t such a bad idea.”

Dick was not sure what expression had formed on his face but the twitch of lips Slade tried to hide by tilting his head meant it was hilarious. Dick had no such reservations, hand clasping over his mouth to muffle his laugh. It was a strange feeling to laugh in this house, in front of Slade. He felt happy, glad and giddy all the same. His hand brushed another strand behind his ear, staying at his neck as he tilted his head away. He licked his lips.  

"Who are you and what did you do to Slade Wilson?"

Had he really convinced him to be less of an asshole? His stomach felt too tight to think.

Dinner was much more enjoyable than lunch but Rose still caught them off guard when she declared that she wanted to place the picture into the living room. No one complained but soon after Slade got up to take a call that made an all too familiar anger appear on his face again. Dick could guess it had nothing to do with a mission and when Wintergreen disappeared down into the weapons room with him, he was sure.

Rose had not missed the odd behavior either and her face fell again, a heavy frown on her face.

“Come on, we’ll get you ready for bed,” he called her to attention, standing up and winking at her. Rose smiled, following him and nearly catapulted herself onto the grand bed when she finished her session in the bath. Dick snorted.

“Don’t let your father see that,” he said teasingly, sitting down beside her and scrutinizing her hair, it had grown a good amount over the last month, “Do you want me to braid it?”

“You would do that?” she asked delighted and he nodded, settling cross-legged behind her after she had retrieved her silver comb. It looked as if Slade had stolen it right out of a fairytale and he halted when he saw the inscription ‘To Rose ♥ Daddy’.

“Can you do a French braid?”

Dick blinked, staring at the back of her head before he caught himself again. He chuckled, slowly combing through her strong black hair.

“Sure.”

He worked in silence, the serum on his mind again but he had a feeling Rose needed to get other things off her chest so he kept his thoughts in his head.

“Can I wait with you for Daddy?” Rose asked when he was finished, looking at him with big pleading eyes.

“You can wait but you could also just sleep here,” he told her with a small smile.

Rose hugged him fiercely and Dick fell down onto the bed with a laugh, surprised when Rose did not take the middle but remained smudged to his chest.

“Tell me more about,” he stopped when he could feel wetness seeping through his shirt.

"Rose?" he whispered, tentatively circling his arms around her.

"Rose? Princess?" he coaxed, "What's wrong?"

He stroked over her back, staring down at the ball of crying child in his arms.

“Did something happen?” he asked softly. Rose only clawed into his shirt and he closed his eyes, drawing her closer.

“Addy--” she broke off, more tears falling and her sobs vibrating in his chest but she looked up at him soon after, snot running down her nose and her eyes already puffy, “I missed him so much and now he isn’t here.”

“Oh, princess. He’ll be back soon” Dick said, smiling down at her, delicately brushing the strands out of her face, “He missed you too.”

Obviously Rose would be homesick. She was only nine after all.

The whimpers ceased while he stroked through her hair and Rose watched him with droopy eyes.

"Do you," her eyelids dropped and she tried to snuggle even closer, "Do you feel safe here?"

Dick did not try to mask his confusion when Rose buried her face into the hollow of his throat.

"Yes," he whispered, surprised how true his answer was despite everything. The grip around his shirt grew stronger.

“Okay.”

He did not force her to tell him what this had been about and he watched her until she begun to snore softly, only then did he close his eyes, positive she felt safe as well.

Hours later he woke from a sliver of light that fell onto them when the door opened. Even though the silhouette was dark, it was unmistakably Slade. The shadow remained still for a moment before the broad shoulders rolled to lose their tension. Shaking his head, Slade stepped in and closed the door.

The bed dipped and Dick could feel him hesitantly reach over him to stroke through his daughters hair. Rose snuggled closer against his chest and Dick smiled. Slade sighed, letting the tension fall from him but still hovering over them. Dick reached for his hand before he could pull back, not stopping to think about the action because he knew Slade had missed her and because Rose had cried. Slade froze when he laced their fingers together to place their hands on her back, holding her close.

It was quiet until Slade shifted to lie down too, pressing up against his back like a heavy warm blanket. He grunted when Rose pushed him further against her father when she sleepily shifted in their embrace, drowsily looking at them before collapsing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Silver Comb with inscription is actual N52 canon as shown in Deathstroke Vol. 3 #15. 
> 
> It's my least favorite Deathstroke comic which was ever written (minus the last Annual, that was just perfect) but it was good for canon moments of Slade trying to be a good father and failing miserably.


	21. Next Please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank all of you so much for the many comments. The last chapter got an overwhelming response!  
> Special thanks to Aaaa, who told me about the mistakes I made.

It was warm. A lot warmer than Dick was used to and the sun caressing his skin, tickling his nose had nothing to do with it. Sluggishly he tried to shift, not getting further than a few millimeters when a pair of hands grabbed his shirt tighter, tiny nails pricking through the fabric into his skin. It was what finally made him open his eyes despite the sun and he blinked down at the girl snuggled to his chest.

His sleepiness was washed away by a trickle of discomfort when breath brushed the back of his neck, the man behind him shifting as well. He could tell the moment Slade woke. The long breath out, the sudden tension in the arm over his waist.

Fingertips brushed over the back of his hand when Slade pulled away, cold air hitting his heated back when the blanket rose as Slade brought a few centimeters back between them. Without the arm, he felt lighter as if he was drifting off the bed into the air. He did not like it.

Slade brushed over his face, other arm propping his head up. Even the red stripes on his cheek disappeared through the serum and Dick felt the urge to roll his eyes. No wonder Slade could not find the good in small things.

His amusement did not go unnoticed but Slade did not ask as they watched each other, the clock ticking by. When it became too awkward to watch Slade, when he found more and more he liked, his gaze turned back to Rose. He leaned back down into the pillow, brushing through the few loose strands of Rose’s hair.

Dick fell into a light slumber now and then before Rose slowly cracked her eyes open, looking up at him blearily and he brushed over her cheek, smiling softly. She rose with a yawn, looking around, blinking at her father before they went huge. She was fully awake in seconds, all but crawling over him to reach him.

Dick let out a grunt when Rose nearly kicked him in the ribs in her enthusiasm but slipped safely out of bed when she had given the way free, a yawn ripping out of his mouth while he made his way down to the coffee he was in desperate need of.  

Perhaps Rose would tell her father what lay on her mind when they were alone.

Another shudder went through his sleep heated body. He wished he had woken after Slade then he would not feel the urge to press back up against him. The man was simply all muscle and warmth. For his tired mind, the combination was intoxicating, especially since he had craved for it ever since… well…

Dick closed his eyes. It was not a good idea to think about sex right now.

He rubbed at his cheek because unlike Slade he had to fight with a red imprint on his cheek. To take his hand had been a mistake even if this might have been the best sleep he had ever gotten with Slade in the same bed. Dick breathed in but his nose was still filled by Slade’s cologne.

If Slade had not discarded him right after fucking him if afterward would have been Slade pressed to his back the ground would have slipped away under his feet. Suddenly Dick was glad for the confusion and the mistrust it had caused him.    

Slade raised an eyebrow when Dick held out the brewed coffee but took it from his hand as Dick sipped on his own cup. For once Slade had not instantly walked into the bathroom either. His hair was mused, the beard untrimmed. The only thing not looking out of the ordinary was the shirt but they all looked the same, were unable to crumble, stretching over every corded muscle as if it was second skin. A lot of people in their profession wore them underneath armor but it had never held his attention for so long. He had a hard time looking away from the firm chest. His fingers twitched around the cup as if they wanted to reach out on their own.

Dick wanted, wanted to curl himself around the body, wanted to bury his face into the chest and hear the thumping of a heart, wanted to fall asleep right there again.

“She missed you a lot,” he told him, forcing his gaze to the silver eye and his mind to concentrate on more important things, safer things.

He was pretty sure Slade knew but he had nothing better to say. It was too harmonious, with both of them only slurping on their coffee and waiting for Rose to come down, for him not to do something stupid while those thoughts clouded his mind.

He was sure Rose wanted to spend time with her father. Slade hummed, staring at the stairs as if he could already hear her roaming around in her room. Maybe he could. Dick did not know where the limits of the serum lay.

“I shouldn’t have left her alone for so long.”

“Then why did you?”

A sharp smile formed on Slade’s face. It was enough for Dick to answer the question on his own. Adeline had not given him a choice but why had he not done something sooner? Surely Wintergreen would have brought her back. If Rose had wanted to come home so badly then Adeline would not have been able to go against the young girl. He mulled it over for a few seconds more before coming to his own conclusion.

“Am I really the worse option?”

Slade gazed at him, turning back to face him instead of staring at the stairs.

“You’re a different threat,” Slade calmly, looking away again and now Dick could hear the quick steps too, “decidedly more dangerous.”

He did not understand. Just a few hours ago Slade had a hand around his throat, just a few hours ago Slade had admitted his mistakes, just a few hours ago Slade had warned him to keep in line, just a few hours ago he had taken his advice, had left him alone with his daughter.

Rose was down the stairs in a matter of seconds, feet barely touching the steps but at no time did it look as if she might lose her balance and tumble down. Her eyes were gleaming.

“I want to have fun today!” she declared, puffed out chest and all. It was sweet and perhaps a bit scary to see the determination in her eyes and stance as if she had just declared war. Perhaps she had. For her it had to be a war, a war against countless missions and the power struggle, over the right to parent her. Not to mention that fun was hardly part of her father’s dictionary.

“You had enough fun,” Slade replied, not faced by his daughter’s enthusiasm, “Don’t pretend Adeline trained with you because I know she did not.”

Dick had the urge to elbow him for the comment when Rose started to pout, little cracks bringing her excitement to evaporate into thin air.

“Why not combine the two?” Dick asked, grin slipping onto his lips and the attention snapped to him. The training Slade set up for his daughter was hard but as long as Dick had lived with them he had not driven it to unreasonable amounts. If Slade cared for one thing then at least to keep her body healthy.

“Hide-and-Seek will school you in foresight and stealth. It’s a perfect way to train.”

Dick knew because Gar had loved it when Megan had come up with the idea and Tim had learned to like it as well. As strange as it might sound at first it really helped and it seemed as if Rose did not need to be convinced with her smile was any indication. Dick knew he had won even though Slade was not impressed. The negative vibes were still tangible so it was no wonder Rose chose him to count.

“The idea behind this game is to hide,” Dick prompted when he opened his eyes.

“I’m hiding in plain side.”

Dick had to bite his cheek to keep the laugh in. He could not be sad about the un-fatherly behavior if he had never expected Slade to participate for real anyway.

“It’s just a game, Slade” he shot back despite it “It won’t hurt you to play it. It’ll only make her happy.”

Slade raised an unimpressed eyebrow and Dick rolled his eyes, stepping towards the stairs. Rose wanted to be found and he would find her even if her father was too good to play Hide-and-Seek for his nine-year-old daughter.

Even Bruce had caved quickly after a right glare from Alfred and a bit of brooding. Maybe he should hire Wintergreen as his Alfred-substitute to work wonders.

Slade followed and Dick ignored him, trying to figure out which room Rose had chosen, deciding to open the door to her room first. His gaze drifted through it, searching for something out of order. This was a game to her which meant she would perhaps not try to watch the doors and take a hideout where she would be safer but not protected from an attack. But she also constantly tried to impress her father which meant she might also play by reality’s rules. Hiding in her own room would give her an advantage over a stranger. She knew where she could hide without betraying herself. His gaze drifted to the bed. The room between floor and bed would be enough but it was also a place everyone would look at first. The closet was just as obvious and he stepped around the bed, smiling when he heard the betraying sliding sound.

“Didn’t I tell you? She learned something” Dick said, knowing she had been where he stood now and Slade would be able to see her. She had rolled onto the other side, using the bed as cover. If Slade had not followed, she could have escaped to another room easily. Rounding the bed was no option, she would use the tactic again so he jackknifed over her bed, rolling off with his shoulder and grabbing the girl’s shirt before she could disappear under the bed again. Rose screamed when his arms wound around her and he laughed, stopping in a crouch with her in his arms.

“Gotcha.”

The pout on her lips was monstrous.  

“Does this really have to be training?” she whined and Dick ruffled through her hair, a few more strands falling out of the braid.

“I don’t call the dips.”

She expectantly looked up at her father.

“You know that doesn’t work on me” Slade stated drily “and don’t call this training when it’s not.”  

Begrudgingly Rose kept quiet and Dick wondered if Slade had already been like this with Grant and Joey. Maybe, maybe not, maybe he had just not been with them often enough. Her pout disappeared quickly though when she realized it was her turn to search. Dick was also was sure she had complaint on principle to get a few more words out of her father. He knew the feeling.

Dick stared up at the ceiling while Rose counted, trying to assess if he could stay in the corner long enough without his gloves. It was easy to decide; he was just that good before jumping up the wall and pushing off it to catch the rim of the doorframe before pulling his body up. The little leverage of the frame was barely enough to keep him from falling. Sheer muscle power and experience made him navigate his body over the door and up against the wall without losing his footing. It was good training and something Rose would have to expect if she ever joined the fight.

Rose walked past him with a frown on her face. Slade had apparently decided his daughter was worthy enough to hide for because he was not trailing behind her and he watched her disappear out of his view again, using the distance to adjust his position against the wall.

The scream nearly startled him enough to tumble down to the floor but the following laugh brought a smile back to his face, heartbeat slowing down again. Slade was going to make more training out of this if they let him, finding him had surely ended in a small fight.

Dick held back a sigh when Rose emerged from the room, a grin on her face and her hair completely tousled, the braid had opened and her hair was a wavy mess. Her breath was going a bit faster, eyes widened, Adeline undoubtedly pumping through her veins.

Slade stayed on the floor while Rose searched for his hideout with more and more irritation, gazing up at him every time Rose disappeared. Slowly Rose was growing suspicious but her father gave nothing away only looking at her in expectation. Dick grit his teeth when the young girl narrowed her eyes in suspicion but hoped she would find him. His muscles were starting to shake from the strain.

Out in the night he would have already disappeared or opted for a stealth attack but as cute as she was he did not need to hear that ear-splitting scream again.

“Who is he?” Slade asked her.

She frowned.

“A hero?”

Slade sighed.

“What kind? What is he known for? What is his,” Slade cracked a smile, which was not meant for Rose, “his family known for?”

The frown deepened for a second before her eyes widened and she turned her head to look up at him with astonishment.

“I didn’t think you could do that without equipment!” Rose exclaimed, scrutinizing him to search for any tricks and Dick smiled, dropping down onto the floor.

“It’s not easy but that does not mean it can’t be done,” Dick replied, taming her hair with his fingers.

Rose smiled, taking the words to heart and then she looked expectantly at her father. For a second it seemed as if Slade would deny her but then he turned around and started counting.

Dick held a finger in front of his lips when he picked up Rose and she kept quiet even though her face was one big question mark. The door to the garden was open which meant they would be able to access the roof without alerting her father. It was not often that they scaled walls without a hook anymore but he was still capable, especially after Slade had let him use the thing only once in a while.

Rose looked amazed, gazing into the distance for a moment before remembering that she was supposed to hide for real. Being out here was nothing Slade would approve of but it was worth it when disappeared in the attic with a grin on her.

Dick stepped to the edge, watching the garden and waiting for Slade to emerge. A hand touched his shoulder, one foot stepping into empty space as he turned the initial twitch making him step away from the danger. Slade grabbed his wrist and Dick – far too experienced to fall to his death – stepped forward again, colliding with the rock hard body.

His breath hitched, head awkwardly tilted backward because Slade’s shoulder was in the way. Dick clawed into the fabric of his shirt as he gathered his wits and began to speak.

“You really want to kill me, don’t you?”

The strong arm slipped from his waist as Slade stepped back and he was tugged further away from the edge when he failed to let go as well. His cheeks grew hot but he ignored the reaction, brushing his hands together.

“I always thought you defied gravity” Slade commented drily and Dick scowled but was glad when the mercenary began to scan the roof in the next moment. Dick wished he could react as casual.

“I forgot we even had an attic” Slade mumbled, looking at the window with skeptic but when they opened the door the young girl was nowhere to be seen.

“I knew this would happen.”

Dick rolled his eyes.

“Come on. You should be able to find her anywhere,” Dick responded, “And doesn’t this at least show she learned from you?”

Slade let out a long suffering sigh and Dick smirked.

As if to mock them she was hiding in their room, sitting on the bed and searching through books. Her expression was perfectly innocent when she looked up at them. Two of the books were dumped into his hands with a command to follow and Dick stole a glance at Slade, seeing his expression soften.

When they arrived downstairs Rose was already picking out a few board games from under the television, looking at them critically. It was not something her father could transform into training but this time Slade did not complain.

Dick picked up the cards with a frown.

“From when are these? The thirties?” he asked with a disbelieving snort.  

“I’m not that old.”

“Really?” Rose asked slyly from her place on the floor but the question was hardly past her lips when her expression fell. Her gaze carefully rose to her father. It wasn’t fear but it was close enough.

“Well,” her father responded, gaze as piercing as ever though his voice was flat, “Now I get what she learned from you.”

Dick breathed through and stepped to the side, only now realizing, he had placed himself between them. It was a wonder Slade had not reacted to that instead.

Rose decided that they could just as well play the card game from the obligatory thirties and sometimes after the second round Slade revealed that they were in fact from the eighties, a present from his brother after he had gotten accepted into military service. Dick had known Slade had served during the Afghanistan Intervention but hearing it even if only so vague was always different. But cards only held so much interest to a nine-year-old whirlwind and they decided for Pick-a-stick afterward. It turned out the game made Rose much more competitive than the ones before. The sticks were held in her hands as if she was a viper waiting to attack.

Wintergreen called while they were in the middle of the fourth round. Rose seemed to be satisfied despite the interruption.

“And now, princess?” he asked when Rose and he made themselves comfortable on the couch after putting the games away.

“Nothing, I annoyed him long enough,” she mumbled as she snuggled into his side.

“Rose,” Dick said with emphasis, “he isn’t annoyed.”

“He is. He is thinking about what work he could do instead.”

He knew how she felt. Every time Bruce had taken time for him he had felt bad, believing Bruce was only calculating how he could get the lost time back to save more people.

“He isn’t,” Dick promised, “We finished the remaining work before you arrived yesterday and our next mission is only in two days.”  

Rose did not look fully convinced, time to change the topic.

“Did you already tell him you want to visit your home country with him?” Dick asked and she shook her head, tucking it back into his side.

“I know it’s frustrating. The secrets he keeps. The feelings he does not show. You have to show him how to open up. Tell him about the things that bother you if he can’t ask you on his own. He won’t push you away.”

Rose nodded unconvinced and Dick could not convince himself with those words either. How much Slade really cared was beyond him. She picked up the books and holding out The Secret Garden after a moment of contemplation.

“Why are you here?” she asked, keeping her grip on the book.

Dick looked at her in surprise, unsure what to say.

“I’m,” he stopped, “Your father is helping me.”

She kept staring at him and then lowered her gaze, letting go and pulling her knees up, lying back against the couch.

“I just don’t want you to leave” Rose whispered before he could do more but part his lips.

“Rose–”

“Can you just read to me?” she stopped him and he kept silent for a second before opening the book with a long exhale. What had he gotten himself into? What was he doing here for god’s sake?

Slade stepped back into the room, looking at them with something like defeat shining in his eyes before he joined them on the couch. Dick was fairly sure he had heard their conversation and they sat in silence for a moment. Rose still watched him but not urging him with her gaze.

Slade sighed, tousling her hair and placing a kiss on top of her head. With that the dam broke and Rose begun crying again. Slade embraced her, staring at the wall with increasing anger and Dick dearly wished they would tell him what had happened.

Dick leaned against Slade’s shoulder instead of asking and begun to read. It took a few minutes for Rose to calm down but then she leaned her head on his shoulder, looking at the pages with wet eyes.

Soon they began reading different parts and that was how Wintergreen found them, cuddled together on the couch while imitating different voices though Slade was still very reluctant to join their childish antics.

Two days later Dick and Slade found themselves in an abandoned warehouse to transfer the money of their client to save the kidnapped teens. Officially some rich kids had gotten involved with the wrong drug business but Dick could practically smell the revenge in the air.

The woman in front of them was a giant. With the bulging arms, she could even put Bane to shame. Despite the statue of metahuman nature, he could still recognize her as Victoría Aguilar Valdez from the pictures he had seen. She was one of the kidnapped girls that had never been found.

“You have the money?” she asked, eyes focused on Slade. Her voice seemed too soft and melodic for a body as though as hers.

“Obviously,” he stated, clicking the suitcase open and turning it to show them.

The money was counted in calculation, every drag of her finger seemed to be drawn out, nothing personal then.

“Where are they?”

Aguilar Valdez chuckled, “Around.”

Dick tensed when her men moved and Aguilar Valdez smiled.

“But that won’t matter, soon enough they will be dead,” she said, her smile turning cold, “Just like you.”

Dick evaded the bullets while Slade attacked her, a few bullets embedding themselves in the strong armor but not getting through. Four knives disarmed the nearest men with ease and Dick cracked their bones on harsh stone as Slade held Aguilar Valdez at bay.

Dick flew over one of the mercenaries, pulling him down and kicking her fist away when she started another attack on the mercenary. The floor had already cracked under their feet.

Slade pulled him down, swinging his sword to stop further advances of the woman, blood flying when the blade cut into her fingers. Dick used the aversion to slam his boots into her chest, making her stumble the tiniest step back.

Bullets flew around them and Dick disarmed another one of the thugs, letting Slade handle the woman again. Three of them seemed to sense that a one to one strategy was not working and attacked without their firearms. Dick blocked their advances, getting away with a cut to his arm and bruises on his wrist. The last one fell just as he felt a hand grasp his neck.  

Aguilar Valdez threw him against Slade but he was too used to be slammed into comrades and just rolled with the flow, taking out one of the gunners. The unmoving mercenary was even better used to rebound than Bruce and he was slowly learning how to fight with him instead of against him. Training with Slade had helped to understand his movements better.  

“Search the place,” Slade told him, positioning himself between the woman and him. “The kids have to be here.”

Dick nodded. They would surely be with the self-named Ice Queen, probably another one of the kidnapped girls. Aguilar Valdez realized their plan when he sprinted towards the door but Slade was not to be underestimated. Smoke filled the air; a hit was parried with the energy lance that sizzled like lightning through the smoke.

Dick opened the window, scanned the area as a loud crack resounded. When he turned his breath hitched. Slade had been slammed into the wall, blood splashing and he stopped in his tracks, even though he already was half out the window.

Aguilar Valdez looked up at him with a smirk.

“You should pay attention” Slade growled, stepping out of the wall as if the cracks were not covered in his blood. He let the sword fall, drawing the twin blades.

“Don’t you dare get down here” was harshly whispered through the ear piece.

One second of hesitation more before he slipped down into the darkness. Slade would be alright, he knew that but it was the first time he had seen him get seriously beat up since he had begun this charade.

He found the teens in the basement. Three boys huddled together with huge bags under their eyes. It was cold down here, his breath a white cloud in front of him and he carefully looked around, trying to determine where the coldness was coming from.

He avoided the sharp ice trying to pierce him to the wall and dashed onto the enemy in a single motion. Her physiology seemed to be similar to Icicle and he knew enough about the villain’s body to fight her efficiently.

“ _Ah,_ Deathstroke’s pet” the Ice Queen chuckled, raising her arms and Dick could feel the air around him growing colder.

He narrowed his eyes behind the mask, nearly slipping on the ice when he settled a powerful kick onto her chest. She stumbled backward, teeth cracking in anger but he was near her now, slamming his palm against her chin and making her fall.

She raised her hand before he could land another kick and more shards of ice flew at him. Dick was able to avoid them even if two grazed his skin. It was growing even colder, ice building on the wounds as if the cold was entering his blood system and only his will kept him from losing any agility. He had not planned to become a Popsicle tonight.

He brought her down with a hit to her temple, controlling his strength enough to keep her from any lasting damage. For a second he simply watched the still and slightly cracked woman to make sure she would stay down before binding her powers with an inhibitor collar. The ice was melting away from here like armor and Dick turned around to take care of the shaking teenagers.

The cold was already cutting through his body, slowing his movements down as if the Ice Queen’s abilities were still taking effect in her surroundings. He did not want to know how they felt.

They were only dressed in shirts and pants, their lips blue and their bodies pale with frost. A few patches of skin were frozen, he was sure. Hopefully the meta-ice would not leave frostbite.

“Come on. It’s safe now. Nothing is going to happen to you,” he spoke in a slow and calm voice, pulling them out of the basement. Knowing the abilities they had stashed security blankets near the warehouse so Dick made them huddle together underneath it. Hopefully they would help.

After that he carried the unconscious women out of the basement. She could not be older than he was, maybe even younger. He leaned her against the wall a few feet away from the scared teens before turning back to them to give them some tea while they waited for the paramedics.

He crossed his arms, brushing over the frozen blood on his arm. White breath escaped from his lips, mirroring the breathing of the teens. The cold was not disappearing, his whole body shuddering but he tried to appear unbothered to reassure their charges. They did not talk and Dick did not either even though he wanted to. Slade’s partner or pet or whatever name satisfied them would not try to make them too comfortable and he was still supposed to be mute. The only reason he had talked with them before was the trauma shining clear in their eyes.

Slade was walking out of the warehouse, cleaning the bloodied sword with a black rag. It would not help to turn away so Dick did not, watching the rag meet the ground with a sudden finality, left behind in the dust. He grit his teeth, feeling tears gather in the corner of his eyes before focusing back on the teens. The blankets were not helping.

“What happened?”

“The,” Dick’s teeth clicked, “Ice Queen.”

Without a word, Slade tugged him nearer until Dick could feel the warmth of his body, the warmth of the flowing blood of the closing wounds. It took a moment before he relaxed, head falling against Slade’s shoulder. It still felt as if he was sinking into snow.

“You killed her didn’t you?”

“You know the answer.”

He let out a dry laugh, body shaking.

“How many people will I see die by your hands until this is over?” he mumbled against his shoulder, opening his eyes as he heard the sirens of the paramedics “Rhetorical question.”

Slade stared at him, sighed and squeezed his shoulder, letting go when the paramedics drove onto the yard. He talked to them while Dick crouched back down to the teens until the medics took over.

Dick watched them leave, wishing he had a blanket as well. The blood was drying against his costume. He hoped the teens would survive and work through whatever they had undergone.

The skin was still knitting together when Slade pulled his costume off and Dick could not help but stare at the flesh wound. It was an alien sight to see skin work like that. Blue bruises were fading all over his back. Dick had nearly forgotten about the attack. His spine had been shattered at least once. The only other visible wound was on his shoulder, filled with bullets as if Slade had made sure to gather them all in one place.

“You are still ice cold.”

Dick gave him a crooked smile as the collar was slipped off his neck, a warm hand staying on his throat low key feeling his pulse.

“Can’t be, we both now I’m hot stuff,” he chuckled, black strands falling into his face when he tilted his head. The smile faltered when warm hands framed his face, nearly slipping off his face. Thumbs brushed over his cheek bones. His breath was suddenly too loud for the silence surrounding them and his pulse quickened. Tilting his head away only made him lean more into the touch and his gaze dropped to Slade’s lips before he forced them up again. At least his chest was growing warmer though Dick really did not need this right now.

“Do you think a blanket is enough?” Slade asked as he stepped back, taking the warmth with him. Dick nodded even though he was freezing, walking to the couch and picking up one of the blankets before making hot tea. He pulled the fabric closer around himself before stepping back into the living room.

“Let me do that,” Dick said and the mercenary reluctantly stopped poking into the bleeding flesh to get the steel out, giving the tweezers into his hands. Dick pulled the blanket higher once again before placing his hand on the arm.

Slade took a sharp breath in.

“Did you get hit by one of the icicles?”

“Only grazed me,” he commented but hesitated to do anything else but hover his hand over his skin, “It’s already getting better.”

Slade squeezed his hand critically.

“If it does not get better we’ll have to make you a hot bath.”

Dick blinked, steadying the arm again.

“Right.”

His fingers slid into place between the accented muscles and started to carefully pick the bullets out. Slade was silent, body not even twitching when the squeezers parted red hurting tissue.

“You rushed.”

“I didn’t.”

“So it was your plan to carry used bullets around in your shoulder?” Dick asked, letting the third bullet clatter onto the desk.

“Should I let them hit you?”

“It’s not easy to hit me,” he responded carelessly and picked one of the bandages up. It was a waste to use it on Slade but worth the glare he got for applying too much pressure. A week ago this would have been dangerous territory but by now Dick was not sure how much he was toeing the line with his actions. He could only press for more.

“I mean it, Slade. You rushed into this. Since I have known you, you have never depended on your healing factor.”

Slade stared down at the bandage as if it was offending him and Dick’s grip grew stronger until he could see his jaw shift. How a healing factor was any good without also preventing the pain was beyond him.

“Are you trying to punish yourself?”

Slade met his gaze.

“Why should I?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps Adeline said something to you.”

“Don’t,” Slade warned.

“You still care for her opinion. You still love her.”

“The divorce was years ago.”

“A divorce doesn’t change your feelings. She might have taken your eye and everything that happened might stand between you but that does not mean you stopped caring. If you had, you would not have granted her partial custody for Rose.”

Slade slipped out of his grip.

“Perhaps you even think she was right to shoot you.”

“Perhaps,” he responded, slowly - dangerously so -, “You should concern yourself with your own life.”

Dick held his gaze for a good moment before lowering his head in defeat.

“Fine, be that way.”

He left him alone, feeling his gaze burn into the back of his head.

The second blanket and the bed did not give off more warmth even after half an hour so he stood up to get a second cup of tea. Slade looked him over, switching off the television.

“Get under the covers, kid.”

Dick took a last sip of tea before slipping back into bed, breath catching in his throat when Slade pressed up against his back. An arm settled over his chest, another slipping under his body to press against his stomach.

“You’re hot” Dick spluttered out, cringing at the admission as the rumbling chuckle vibrated against his chest.

“Thought so,” was the harmless reply and his breath hitched as fingertips brushed underneath his shirt, lightly digging into his hip bone.

“Better?” Slade whispered, hot wet breath hitting the back of his neck. He let out an inaudible sound when his spine was overcome by a tickling sensation, not trusting his voice. The hand on his hip slid back to his stomach.  

“Will Rose be alright without you?” Dick asked, trying to concentrate on something else but the stirring in his gut. Slade huffed.

“She is used to this,” he answered, thumb slipping underneath his pants and Dick took a heavy breath through his nose, “She was simply affected because she overheard some things.”

Dick frowned, suppressing the urge to turn around.

“What do you mean?”

The sigh turned into an amused chuckle and Dick looked at the wall in confusion as if it held all the answers. The hand slipped back to his hip over his shirt.

“Accusations,” Slade responded, surprising Dick when he spoke on instead of leaving him with an ambiguous answer, “She wants sole custody and you might be the deciding factor in this fight so it begins now. Our respective lawyers are on it at the moment.“

It was silent for a moment.

"Rose’s mother, Lilian, worked in a brothel. Rose is no stranger to prostitution and despite her young age, she remembers how the girls of her mother were treated if no one protected them. Adeline might like her or pretend to but she hated her mother.”

“You cheated on her.”

Slade hummed.

“I did. I would do it again.”

Dick bit his tongue. At least Slade was not pretending to be a good man.

“Adeline does not believe I have even an ounce of morality left. She knew telling Rose her own version of the situation between us was the safest way to make her doubt everything she sees in me.”

“So she told her,” he trailed off.

“That I am raping you.”

Dick squeezed his eyes shut. No wonder Rose had been so troubled after she had viewed them as some kind of dream couple. And how he had learned to know her meant she had started to wonder if her mother and Slade had even loved each other, how she had come to be. Her comments and questions – her worry – made more sense now.

“A lot of people will assume I raped you, especially your precious Bat. Maybe I did.”

Dick pressed his nose into the pillow.

“You didn’t. I offered this. You always gave me the choice to say no. I didn’t take the way out and I’m not,” Dick wet his lips, “I do not regret offering you my body in exchange for lives.”

“That’s a lie.”

“It’s not. I would rather be your bed warmer for a year then see someone else die” Dick responded “I made a choice. And I made that choice because despite everything you still have a sense of morality or at least a sense of honor.”

It was true he was not lying in his arms because he feared to move away, he was here because some stupid and naive part of him liked it. It was not just the warmth. It was knowing; that Deathstroke the terminator was human, that even someone like him was driven by fears; that even someone like him could fight for another person. There had to be a reason why Wintergreen had stayed with him, why a young girl like Rose would rather stay with him than with Adeline.

“I do?” Slade asked amused, though there was an edge to his voice Dick did not quite get. He shrugged in the embrace, pulling the blanket tighter when a gust of wind made him shudder pathetically.

“You transform it five times a day but at least you have something.” 


	22. Cry Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love and praise for this story from you, again. Thank you. I can't say it often enough.  
> I hope to keep you entertained with this universe until the end (and maybe even beyond because I know all of you want to have more Rose).  
> There is still so much I want to tell here and that it is read, thought about... well, that just makes a writer proud and motivates them. So thanks, thanks for everyone who has left and will leave a comment. 
> 
> Now enjoy! :D

Dick had just gotten the last person away from the street when the glass shattered and the building collapsed, fire blooming out in an angry exhale and consuming everything in its path. People screamed in shock, some bystanders in confusion as Dick watched. They had evacuated the building as good as possible. No one would die through the explosion. Dick treated that thought like a fact.

He left the businesswomen and businessmen with the arriving fire brigade and the paramedics to count the other employees with the help of his lenses. They were not protected by contract but Dick had still gotten his way and he breathed out in relief, deactivating the feature again. With a short, silent goodbye he turned and stepped towards the partially burning heap of ruins without caring for the firemen screaming at him to stay back.

But he did pull a filtration mask over his face to keep safe from the toxic smoke even though he would sound like Darth Vader with it.

The dust had not settled completely and his ears were still ringing from the explosion. To activate the heat vision made no sense with the small fires still burning so he walked further. The room with the bomb had been in the middle of the building, the second floor so Slade was most likely in the middle of the chaos. The armor was protective and his healing ability gave him an advantage but even Slade would have trouble breaking free if he was buried by the stone walls so Dick began to search, walking through the smoking heaps. Then again, maybe Slade had tried to get distance between him and the explosive after Dick had told him the contract was fulfilled.

The dust was starting to set but smoke was still filling the air and Dick worried his lip, trying to find a clue. He did not fear Slade had died, even reckless the man was near indestructible especially if his opponent was a mere unanimated object.

Dick turned around with a sigh just for his eyes to go wide. He was beside Slade in a second, reaching out but hesitating to touch. The only thing keeping the mercenary upright was a barely standing wall. One bloody piece of metal stuck out of his stomach the other between his ribs. His right arm was dangling limply down his side, dark from smoke and wet from blood. He was breathing hard with a whistling sound accompanying every drag, fingers curled into a fist while the arm healed slowly.  

“You ok?” Dick asked worriedly pulling his hands back awkwardly, watching the huge amount of blood bath the ground under his feet as it dripped down the damaged body. He glanced at the bloody imprint on the rough stone.

“In a moment,” Slade forced out between gritted teeth, his breath cutting short at the end as he pushed away from the wall, “but we need to go.”

Dick gripped his shoulders before he could move further, protest close to leaving his lips but the helicopters were coming nearer and all he could do was agree. The authorities would only get in the way after this disaster. The mission was finished anyway.

“At the very least let me steady you.”

Slade closed his eye with a sigh, shifting until his back was against the wall. His teeth flashed as another wave of pain hit him. Fingers dug into his black-clad shoulder and Dick loosened his grip in response. A hand curled around the glinting metal and Dick watched in dawning horror as Slade pulled the metal between his ribs out, another gush of blood streaming down his body as he let the heavy material fall to the ground. Blood dripped out of Slade’s mouth and Dick barely caught him, arms circling the broad upper body as Slade’s head sunk onto his shoulder.

“Are you sure this was a good idea?” he whispered, changing his grip to start walking.

“It only,” a rattling breath, “heals like this.”

His voice was strained and the gray in his eye clear with pain. They used the back alleys to keep away from any human soul until they had no other option but to use the rooftops. Dick noticed with growing apprehension that only the arm was healing at a normal rate.

Slade freed himself from his grip when they arrived in the small apartment.

“I’m losing count of the safe-houses” Dick admitted, assessing the little apartment before turning back to the man. Would they all be replaced once the year was over? Even for Slade, the ordeal would be too expensive.

“I thought you would choose the chance and document every small detail. Your loss.”

Dick had to resist sticking out his tongue at the dry humor still so uncommon out of the mercenary’s mouth.

The shredded shirt was blood-soaked and unceremoniously ripped off his body. It should not look as sexy as it did, not with Slade looking as if he had just made the kill of the century. Dick did not ask about the man he had fought. He knew he was dead, it was the reason why the bomb had not been so easy to disarm.

The wounds looked cruel and frayed, skin trying to rebuild itself around the metal. In the clear air, Dick could smell the burned flesh but he could not see any outer fire-induced damage which could only mean the metal had still been heated.

Dick had to look away when the much shorter metal rod was pulled out with a squelching sound and this time Slade gave no reaction whatsoever, as if it was nothing, even though his body was on the brink of shutting down. How could someone be so unconcerned, especially while it did seem to hurt? As it was, he knew superhumans but anyone else he knew did not get injuries like that in the first place or healed too fast to notice.

“This has to be the smallest bed you ever bought,” he pointed out as he eyed it critically.  

“It’s a one-room apartment. I never made that mistake again” Slade answered, hand still placed over the oozing hole between his ribs. His stomach looked worse. If he lost more blood his body would go into shock and Dick doubted Slade had blood bags lying around.

His hand hesitantly slipped from the bathroom handle even though he wanted nothing more but to change.

“It’ll close.”

Dick ripped his gaze from the wounds up to Slade’s face in disbelieve.

“Right.”

The image in front of him was eerie. Smeared red fists were shaking, curled on bloody thighs. Every other time Slade had walked straight into the showers, just to step out like a new man. He leaned back against the door with crossed arms.

“Do you think Luthor will try to outsource the data soon?”

Slade shrugged, “He is a peculiar man. I don’t try to foresee his actions if I am not forced to do.”

Dick huffed, “Peculiar?“

"Don’t like the word?”

“I wouldn’t use it to describe Lex Luthor.”

Slade hummed, closing his eye and Dick kept watching for a moment longer before he stepped into the bathroom.The question had been an attempt to change the topic. Dick knew there was no chance to speed the process up as long as Artemis and Luthor did not make their move. It was still frustrating. The others had contacted Artemis more than a month ago and they had been geared to hear from Luthor after exactly one, believing Artemis would not wait before taking the mission into her hands. The longer Luthor had the data, the more damage he could do. But they had not heard from him in a while. It was awfully silent and Dick hoped it was not because of the upcoming threat Slade had mentioned.

The stench of blood lay on his tongue the second he stepped out of the bath, bed more red than white. Slade’s breath was even and slow, head leaning against the wall as he seemed to concentrate.He had never thought Slade might have a limit to his healing ability. Sure the mercenary was not dying but still less indestructible than Dick had imagined.

A quick step back into the bathroom and Dick clicked the first aid kit open, returning with four bandages. He stepped in front of the man, ready to make his demands known when Slade beat him to it.

“Dick,” the irritation was curling around his name like a snake even though Slade had his eyes closed.

“How do you even,” Dick stopped, “Whatever. If you don’t stop bleeding I can name a river after you. The Wilson river, shedding unnecessary blood since 1964.”

Slade’s lip twitched but his snark got no other reaction and Dick really wanted to hit him. The man was worse than Bruce when injured.

“You were slammed into the wall by the detonation. It damaged your spine. You have internal injuries or had them. I know I am right. So let me help you.”

Slade did not respond right away and Dick remained silent, holding the bandage loosely in his hands. No matter how much their alliance resembled some twisted friendship, he would not touch Slade if he did not get permission before.

“You won’t let it go, will you?”

Dick grinned smugly and Slade sighed, shoulders relaxing.

“Fine, waste perfect bandages, you might need to survive.”

He let out a laugh and leaned nearer with an even broader grin.

“Sweet of you to think about me, but you shouldn’t worry,“ he shot back innocently. "I’m not the one trying to kill myself on a daily basis.”

Slade looked at him, tilting his head.

“You’re a suicidal bird, Dick. All you do is get into situations that harm you more than do you good.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Denial is the first step to acceptance.”

Dick rolled his eyes and begun his work, not trying to dwell on the thought that Slade was right, that all of this could easily become a suicide mission.

The wound was still bleeding sluggishly so the white was soon soaked with liquid red.

His skin was hot to the touch but Slade did not look feverish. Maybe the unnatural heat of his body came from the steady rebuilding of cells. He brushed along the bandage to correct the loop, blood soaking through instantly. For a second he lingered, the blood-slick skin under his fingertips. The bandage hardly needed so much attention and if he was true to himself then he was not even giving it to the white fabric. His worry was genuine though and he pulled it tight before giving Slade space again.

“You going to do that by yourself?” he asked, gesturing to the stomach wound and jutting his chin out as he rolled the other bandage unsurely between his fingers, ignoring the heavy gaze.

Slade brushed over the pressure dressing, blood shining through in a pinkish tone, crusting in a brown tone on the corners. The stomach wound was bleeding sluggishly. On anyone else, Dick would have said it was already infected.

“You wanted to play nurse.”

Dick nearly let the two remaining bandages drop when Slade spread his legs, gesturing for him to settle down between them. For a second he stared, squeezing the bandages tightly in his hands while Slade waited without giving his thoughts away.

His thoughts were falling over each other but the words to voice them were gone so Dick sunk to his knees in silence, eyes strictly on the wound. Maybe he was interpreting too much into this or Slade was messing with him but his mouth run dry as the mercenary leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes again.

Even as he scooted closer he expected to feel a hand in his hair.

His breath brushed over the bloody bandage over his chest when he drew the first loop, searching for the bandage behind his back. It was so easy to be so close to him and so difficult to keep his hands away. His tongue swept over his dry lips as he exhaled slowly.

“Why did you not read your file?”

Dick flinched at the sudden words, too caught in his own thoughts. The bandage nearly slipped out of his hands. Slade made no comment about the reaction but his gaze was heavy enough to burn into his skin. It took him a moment before he realized he needed to answer.

“I," he hesitated, crumbling the bandages in his grasp as he tilted his head away, just to freeze when fingers curled around his chin, firmly guiding him to look at Slade. “I didn’t want to know.”

“You were scared.”

His gaze flicked away as the words felt like a weight pressed against his skin.

“I was not searching for information about myself,” he evaded the statement, “Just wanted to find out about the things you did not tell me.”

Slade saw right through the feeble attempt but pulled his hand back nonetheless. They watched each other, the silence only disturbed by the sound of cars.

“So you have cameras in your office?” Dick tried when the silence became too much, knowing the answer before asking because _obviously_.

“In every room.”

Dick rolled his eyes with a quirk of his lips, nearly wanting to ask _Bruce? Is that you?_ Sadly he was sure the joke would not be appreciated.

“No expectations?”

Slade raised an eyebrow and cocked his head, body still relaxed. It was the most open position Dick had ever seen him in.

“You think I would tell you?”

There was no warning in his voice, perhaps because they were so far away or because he already was in a vulnerable position or – his mind reprimanded – there was just no necessity.

“Who knows?” Dick mused with a quirk of his lips while he pulled the bandage a bit tighter to keep the right pressure, “You did not punish me even though I looked through personal files, telling me where I am unwatched would make me feel even safer, don’t you think?”

Manipulation was the topic right before entering Roy Harper Hell and his own joke, half-truth, _fear_ shortly made him waver as he replayed everything that had happened since Rose was back. How much it differed from the way Slade had treated him before and how much it did not. Because the care had started much sooner, hadn’t it?

“There are none in the bathrooms. Every man needs a bit of privacy in the morning. Especially horny twenty-somethings.”

Dick spluttered, halting mid-loop. His breath hit the bloodied and bandaged chest mere millimeters in front of his face. Slade smirked. The bastard.

He tightly bound the loop and the end together, hoping the pressure was enough to stop the bleeding until his healing ability was up to speed.

“And? Was that really so difficult?” he asked, petting the strong thigh beside him, “Or does bleeding out really feel so good?”

Slade huffed in amusement.

“It actually doesn’t.”

A hand tousled his hair.

“Thanks, kid.”

Dick blinked up at him, lips parted, eyes searching. The hand brushed his hair back, tugging lightly and Dick swallowed, fingers gripping the blanket tightly before he could do something stupid. His breath quickened. As much as he wanted to think about Roy and Bruce the butterflies soaring in his stomach did not care.

“No… No big deal,” he whispered but even to his ears, his words sounded too breathy. Slade traced a line to the corner of his lips and Dick pressed into the touch without conscious thought. The blanket crumbled between his grip as he waited, heartbeat picking up. He closed his eyes, barely suppressed the shudder as soft fingertips danced over his jaw. The serum made Slade so much younger than he was. He would forever have more callouses on his fingertips than Slade.

"Stop playing with me.”

Slade chuckled, the deep sound vibrating in his chest.

“When have I ever done something else?”

Dick swallowed as the fingers traced down his throat, tracing the sturdy collar around his neck. He waited with baited breath for the tell-tale click, heart thundering in his chest as he expected Slade to touch and take what was his for a year.

But the freeing sound never came and Dick schooled his face into indifference before opening his eyes even though he knew his pupils were betraying him. Maybe even something far more obvious if he did not stop thinking about a cock in his mouth.

Somehow he managed to stand up without awkwardly trying to keep skin contact with the fingers he had hoped would guide his lips against Slade's crotch.

He turned away, breathed out quietly and squared his shoulders before whatever control he still had could slip. His gaze found the kitchen.

“I’m going to eat something. What about you?”

“I’m starving.”

Dick was not prepared for the words to ruffle his hair, nor for the heat, he could feel so near behind him. Maybe he imagined the want in Slade’s voice maybe he did not.

“Alright,” he choked out.

Slade squeezed his shoulder, brushing past him to get to the bath. Dick hated the amused glance he received as much as he loved the emotion on Slade’s face. Just another reason why he would not survive the remaining months.

Since they had left the house weeks ago, he had not seen Rose and Wintergreen. He missed them, missed having a distraction from Slade because every new quiet moment stole more and more breath from his lungs. Roy would think it was some nefarious ploy but Dick knew he had only himself to blame. Not even the long time away was Slade’s fault. It was too dangerous to travel back home after every mission and taking Rose or Wintergreen with them would destroy the purpose.

Dick shook his head, searched for something they could eat while he heard the shower run. Why had he even bothered with the bandages? And why make him squirm but not take?

The only eatable thing in the whole apartment was a military ration from a few years back and he crunched on the crackers, flushing them down his throat with water. It was not the food he craved above all else, though, so he walked back to the blood-soaked bed, cursing Slade for his inconsideration. It did not stop him from lying down, his clothes soaking up the blood instantly and sticking wetly to his skin. Dick was not sure how many flights they had taken by now but he really missed the quick transportation through Zeta-Tubes. It meant more sleep and less stress.

He curled into himself when his feet found no place on the mattress. Slade had never actually used this safe house for more than a quick stop, Dick was sure. Could they not just buy a couch or a mattress with some quick express service?

He never even tried to ask as a joke instead falling into dreamless sleep. It was Deathstroke that greeted him when he woke, sword and lance already on his back. Their next flight awaiting them.

Dick always anticipated and feared the missions the shattered Light gave them because he always hoped it would be Luthor, telling them to protect the data.

It was never the mission Dick wanted, in the contrary.

A village had tried to break free of Queen Bee’s influence, now the chief was on the ground in front of them. The other villagers on their knees a few steps away, surrounded by henchmen and soldiers alike. A woman was weeping, guarded by a burly man with a blinding grin. He looked native to these lands. The image spoke of betrayal.

The woman screamed and begged as Slade stepped forward to undeniably her husband. Dick did not need to understand her language to know what she was saying. He wanted to help her, help all of them and he would have taken Slade’s rage for the sake of this family, this village but he was standing beside Queen Bee. As much as the smug look on her face was revolting to all his senses, he would be dead before he could even take one step forward.

His stomach dropped as Slade stopped behind the man, hand rising to release the sword from its sheath. The metal glinted in the sunlight, blinding Dick and bringing tears to his eyes.

Queen Bee for all her cruelty had always been one to seduce her victims to death, men and women alike, never had he thought she would resort to this even with Deathstroke at her beg and call. 

He closed his eyes behind his lenses and begun to breathe even, concentrating on the sound of the air instead of the whimpers and pleas around him as Slade’s deep voice filled the square. Queen Bee chuckled beside him, raising her voice as well.

A scream ripped him out of his meditation and he shuddered, bile rising in his throat. His hands trembled behind his back. Blood was splattered on the ground, some of it clinging to the black and orange suit and a lot of it trailing down the sharp sword.

“They had their warning,” Queen Bee spoke, satisfied and her henchmen moved while she kept her glinting eyes on the image for a bit longer before turning to the helicopter awaiting her.

Dick stared at the separated head, the woman weeping in the dust, not knowing if she should touch her husband or not. Only now caught his gaze the young boy and girl clutching at their mother. Twins no older than six.

The unmistakable new chief was yelling something as most of the villager’s faces had grown pale, gesturing at the woman and her children.

Blood was roaring in his ears but Slade forced him back with bruising strength when he made a step forward. The villagers were ignoring them, too caught in their own terror and Queen Bee was gone with her entourage.

“What is he saying?” Dick asked, eyes widening as the man grabbed her by the hair, forcing her upright. Another woman detached from the crowd, shielding the twins with her body, pleading with the man.

“No,” he breathed out, hands rising to get out of Slade’s grip. He was dragging her over her husband’s body. She was going to die.

A hand pressed over his mouth, the kevlar rough but familiar against his skin, muffling the scream of despair. The arm around his waist nearly wasn’t enough to hold him back. He had to save someone, could not watch again.

He ripped at his hands, bit his fingers until he tasted blood.

“Everything alright Deathstroke?” Dick could hear the deep voice of the bodyguard in his ear. The earpiece, shit, _oh god_.

“Absolutely,” Slade replied, irritation barely noticeable as Dick felt a syringe enter his throat, a mistake on the mercenary's part. Dick crashed his elbow into his solar plexus, turning far enough away to rip the syringe out of his skin before Slade could push the substance into his bloodstream. He doubled over as a steel enhanced kneecap crashed into his stomach and he sunk to the ground, bile flooding his mouth.

“Is everything prepared?”

Dick shakily rose first to his knees, wiping the bile from his lips, then to his feet.

“Yes.”

An explosion made him flinch and stumble. He turned, staring into the flames where once stood the chief's house. The villagers screamed, the knife slid from the traitor’s hands. The flames were taking over, catching some of them in the fire. The two women and the kids were running in their direction. Another explosion made the ground shake, a piece of wood crashed beside them into the earth. They kept running, eyes closed and children near their body.

The cock of a gun was louder in his ears than even the third explosion.

He had lashed out before he realized it, fist connecting with Slade’s jaw. Had Slade been a normal man, his jaw would have broken but the mercenary did not even hesitate a second before countering the attack. Maybe those blows were long overdue.

Dick could feel his hips bruise when he collided with the near tree just to throw himself back onto Slade, did not care when an elbow caught him in the ribs. The screams around them were quieting down. Dick did not want to think about why while he roared at Slade.

They crashed to the ground and somehow Dick came out on top. The knife glinted in the sun when he raised it. Slade did not try to stop him. Blood pooled out of his cheek, barely splattering the ground. Dick shook with anger and pain and betrayal, changed his grip, lay the glinting edge against Slade’s throat and pressed forward with his teeth gritted. The gray eye was watching him, nearly white in the sun with the barest hint of blue.

His grip grew harder around the handle when blood pooled on it like tiny rubies and he bit through his own lip, tasting blood, other hand clawing in the earth beside the white hair.

He could not do it. This was not who he was. This was not how Slade would get his wish.

Dick watched the fire burn in front of him, grip loosening around the knife. He barely felt Slade push his hand away from his throat while he tried to hear more quick steps leading away from the massacre even though the world had started to tilt. His gaze swept to the hand on his thigh. He was already falling when he noticed the syringe in his flesh. The last breath he took before darkness overtook him rang loudly in his ears, tasted like smoke and flesh.

He woke up still disoriented in a much too soft bed, stripped off his clothes bare for his underpants and the taste of bile on his tongue. The sun was going down painting the world orange and red. Dick could still hear the screams, smoke burning his nose.

His knees hit the floor in front of the toilet, eyes squeezed together. His hands were white around the seat, fingers cold. His tears fell freely as his shoulders shook with every new heave until the strength left him. He collapsed between toilet and basin, leaning his cheek onto the toilet seat, clawing at his side as if he could hold himself together.

He stared through the door unseeing as he tried to forget.

“You have seen worse,” he whispered to himself, “It’s ok.”

But it was not.

The door opened fully an eternity later to reveal Slade. It should have seemed like the stuff right out of nightmares especially with the broad shadow falling over his limb body forebodingly.

“Go away.”

Just a whisper. No heat. No pleading because Dick was numb, numb, numb.

Of course, Slade did not listen, crouching down in front of him. Being eye to eye with him made no difference. As calmly as Slade regarded him as much did Dick look through him. Only when Slade reached out did Dick move, tilting his head away in silent terror. He felt small when Slade cradled his cheek, the touch like pinpricks on his skin.

“I’m sorry.”

The tears blurring his vision finally fell as he shook his head, pulling Slade’s hand away. He did not want to hear it.

“You were not meant to see the village burn.”

Dick stared at him because he meant it without remorse for the people who had died and he stared even as Slade was gone until the light under the door disappeared. The tiles grew colder and Dick forced himself to stand up, rinsing out his mouth mechanically. The bitterness did not quite disappear as he stared at his own reflection in the mirror.

His cheeks were stubbly and he breathed through, forehead meeting the glass with a dull thump.

“Get a grip,” he hissed to himself, “Get a grip. You can’t lose it here. With _him_.”

He carefully shaved his face, halting when blood bubbled from a cut at his throat. How would he feel had he cut Slade open? Bile rose in his throat again and that he had to take as the answer.

Clothes were laid out on the bed. Jogging pants, a muscle shirt, and a hoody. It fitted him perfectly like everything else Slade had given him in the last months. His hands formed into fists.

Slade was reading the newspaper when he entered the kitchen, taking a bite of his dinner now and then as if it was a normal Sunday. Even though he had killed a few hours ago and Dick could feel the syringe again, entering his throat.

“How can you be so…,” Dick could not find a word for it, would never find one even if he thought about it for hours.

“War does that to you, kid,” Slade replied without laying the paper away.

“You burned a village down,” Dick hissed though his voice was too high to be filled with anger.

“I know. I have done worse.”

Dick shook his head, stepping backward.

“I thought you had a code,” he finally said, voice finally strong with rage, “They were innocent!”

“It was not my decision to make. Did you expect something else from Queen Bee?”

No, no he had not.

“I expected something else from you! Is that so hard to grasp?” he snapped, eyes blazing because he had hoped, naively hoped that Slade really was someone he should fight for.

“Who am I, Dick?”

Dick clicked with his tongue, tried to reign his anger and his disappointment in.

“Why did you take me with you? How could you,” he stopped himself, his nails were pricking into the skin of his palms.

“I hate you.”

His voice was vibrating but the words could not be less true and he hated himself for his weakness.

“It’ll get better.”

“It’s not supposed to!”

“Why?” Slade asked, - finally, finally - dropping the paper onto the kitchen table, “Because of Batman?”

“Don’t get Bruce into this! You just destroyed a whole community! You killed at least twenty people and traumatized all of them! You can’t justify their death!”

Slade was closer now, so close that he had to stare up at him.

“What do you want me to say? That I am sorry? Do not kid yourself, boy. The only thing I am sorry about is that I did not drug you fast enough.”

He had lashed out before he realized it, gripping Slade by his shirt and connecting his knuckles with his cheekbone. The man did not so much as blink and Dick knew his hand would hurt more than he could ever hurt Slade but he did it a second and a third and a fourth time because Slade let him until his punches grew weak. Only then did Slade catch his wrist, hand over the pulsing raw knuckles. He could taste the salt of his own tears on his lips as the light bruise on Slade’s cheek started to disappear again.

“You needed to be there. The Light needs to trust you for all of this to work,” Slade spoke firmly.

“Shut up.”

He had gotten himself into this. Roy had warned him. He was cornered, set checkmate by his own arrogance and naivety. His body shook before he could reign his emotions in. He had never been good at hiding them.

It did not help that the smell of smoke was clinging to them. His hands clawed into the strong shoulders as if his life depended on it and the first sob left his throat.

“Dick,” before Slade could talk any further he had slumped down, crying with his face pressed against the strong chest. Even now it was not lost on him that he tried to find comfort with his enemy, with the deadliest mercenary their world had to offer. But he had no one else right now.

Arms circled his body and Dick slowly quieted down in the strong embrace, feeling so much safer than he should. The seconds ticked by while the tears dried on his face. He felt numb, so utterly exhausted, even more than before.

A thumb rubbed the spot behind his ear and he closed his eyes, breathing in the scent that was Slade instead of fire.

His hands shifted to his backside, fingers fisting into his shirt, denying what it meant to be allowed to do this.

It was quiet as they remained like this and he shifted, laying his cheek on his shoulder, lips near his ear as he stared at the kitchen counter.

“I don’t get it, Slade. How can you not care for the lives you take? Is it because of the serum? Is it because the PTSD never got to you? Or,” he stopped because it made no sense to ask, “Forget it.”

Hands shifted on his body, to caress up and down the small of his back. The beard tickled his cheek. Dick closed his eyes, did not want to think about the way this felt like a betrayal of his principles, on Bruce.

“I was a soldier, Dick. When you are out there you don’t think about the life of your enemies, you can’t. And the more you kill, well. Some people realize how precious life is, all life. Others realize how fleeting it is. And sometimes you killed too much to care.”

Dick wanted to tell him, that it wasn’t true but he had never fought in a war, knew well enough that it was a gray area unlike the fight villains and heroes constantly fought.

“The serum only activated after Adeline shot me,” Slade admitted, “It needed an inductor. The nightmares and the paranoia stopped after the serum but other symptoms grow much more prominent.”

“Like?”

Slade chuckled.

“I’m pretty sure you can find your own answer to that.”

Dick kept silent but his nails pricked further into his skin.

“What about the first person you killed? You didn’t just brush that death off.“

"You are right, I didn’t.”

Dick leaned a bit more weight on him.

“I don’t think anyone ever forgets the first. I never saw his face. Shot him in the back of his head,” Slade sounded far away, “He was just standing there, a mg on his back. We were planning an ambush. I was sixteen. I docked, aimed and shot. It was a power rush. I picked the dog tag off his neck like it was a trophy.”

Slade huffed, thumb caressing the back of his neck when he clicked the collar open. And for a short moment, he was surprised because he had forgotten completely about it.

“It was only later that day when we returned to the base that I lay in my bed, wide awake. The adrenaline was gone but you don’t stay in the army if you don’t get over it. The military encourages you to kill and that I did.”

“But why the military? Why so long?”

“Dick” Slade said his name in amusement, “My family was poor. Our country is patriotic. It was my way out and I was good at killing, horrifyingly good at it. So good that they gave me the serum.”

“You still are,” Dick reminded, pulling back with a troubled expression and Slade nodded, the smile on his lips sending a shiver down his spine.

“I still am.”

“You are rich, you could do anything with the skills you possess. Why not stop?”

“I’m not a good man, certainly not a nice man” Slade reminded, brushing a strand of raven hair behind his ear. “Picture me as a businessman.”

Slade paused.

“I would not be better than Luthor, would not even need a mercenary to do my dirty work.”

Dick let his hands fall from his shoulders. Maybe but Luthor did not care for family, did not care for contracts.

“The kill I promised you,” Dick finally begun the one question this may have been all about because it seemed to him as if he was just trailing after Slade into self-destruction.

“Is the reason I accepted.”

Dick lowered his gaze and finally stepped back, brushing a hand through his hair to tug at the longer growing strands on the back. He was feeling more for him than he ever had and it was scary to know even now that did not change. Maybe it was the honesty - what he hoped was honesty, the care - which he hoped was genuine.

“You can pick up a clean uniform and weapons in the bedroom. We are leaving for Cambodia in an hour.”

Dick nodded and hoped he would not see anyone die.

He barely closed his eyes during the flight, the night reminded him of the smoke with white clouds covering the black sky and the sunrise was just another fire burning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm an honest writer so if you are asking yourself if the "enjoy" at the beginning note was written with every intention to make your unconsciousness expect a happy chapter... the answer is yes.


	23. Loyalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First: Thank you! The response to this story has been amazing and since Chapter 21 just overwhelming. I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to comment and tell me about your thoughts. It gives a great boost of confidence and always renews my vigor to write this fiction because as much as I love this story, I would never be able to finish it without you!
> 
> It took me longer to write this time, which partially has to do with me writing about Cambodia (but more about that later) and that this chapter, as well as the next few, did not exist a month prior, at least not in this form. So expect a few delays in the future. Chapter 24 is planned upload is April, 30. 
> 
> Despite that or because of that this chapter has double the word count it had a week ago. Don’t ask me why, though, I thought I only added one scene.
> 
> A few more important words before you start reading: 
> 
> I am not Khmer and I have never visited Cambodia before so everything I have written about Phnom Penh has been researched. But research can only give you so much knowledge and depending on sources even false information. So if any of you have visited Cambodia (which I know one person has) or has ties to the culture, tell me if you read something that just doesn’t fit or might be offensive. It’s easy to fall into traps when writing about a different culture, even more so when incorporating such sensitive topics as prostitution and drug use.

 

His apathy had been fuelled by the flight and a much as Dick had hoped to stay in the little bubble he had created in the last torturous hours, he was ripped out of it once they arrived in Phnom Penh. The chaos on the narrow streets was so different from the one in his homeland and he could not help but look after the Tuk-Tuks and cars and bicycles filling the streets with people walking through the stream of movement without apparent difficulty. The scents wafting through the open window from a market nearby made his mouth water and his ears filled with the noise of the streets, the foreign words wafting through the air to him. He raised his eyes to the sky until he could feel them water, heaving his body upright and feeling the tension in his back after slouching for so long. This was the city Rose had lived in, had called her home for the first years of her life and it felt wrong to be here without her. He could imagine how she would look, big blue eyes wide with excitement and a grin on her lips. Maybe she would even forget she was her father’s daughter, hands leaving marks on the windows.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Slade turn his head to him but the silence stayed between them. Dick redirected his focus back out, the lenses adjusting to the sunlight. The costume was already sticking to his sweaty skin and he wished he did not have to wear it, even though it was not the same suit he had worn a day ago.

The Tonle Sap glittered in the sun when they drove along the riverside. Dick had known where they were headed since Slade had mentioned Cambodia but nothing prepared him for the huge palace like building complex. It was nothing compared to the lonely skyscrapers and the construction side he had caught glimpses of as well but still stood out among the others bars and clubs as well as hotels.

Dick could not see the lonely eye behind the sunglasses Slade was wearing but he could feel the burn of his eyes that overpowered the sun by far. As they were now, with him in costume and Slade in civil, they embodied well, what had happened after metahumans had been created by the Reach in hundreds, a boom in metahuman bodyguards for rich mostly white men.

A woman near the entrance watched them critically, a cigarette caught between her pursed lips. It was only when Slade started to speak with her that her eyes opened wider in realization. Dick quietly listened to them even though he could hardly understand more than the short greeting they had exchanged. The words were spoken without hesitation and Dick wondered if Slade had cared enough for Rose’ mother to learn it for her or if he had perfected it for his own intentions. If the former, had he visited her? Had he known about Rose before her mother had died? Did he speak Khmer with his daughter or was Wintergreen the one who helped her stay fluent?

The unmistakeable smell of hashish filled his nose as the smoke blew in their direction when she took the keys from Slade with a quirk of her lips. Dick did not ask, simply followed as they entered the building.

Even though the facade had betrayed how grand the place was, Dick had not been prepared to find himself in a palace like building. Golden ornaments were decorating the room, decorative century lime pots standing on golden pillars. The floor was painted red, walls a construct of wood and refined with glass that reflected the vividly blooming plants from every angle.

A few women were present most of them watching them walk towards the stairs with suspicion and concern but others remained completely disinterested, going after their shores to clean and make the bar ready for the night that would follow.

There was a small area, though, where drinks and snacks were being served to customers. One pair kept his attention for a second longer. No matter from which perspective Dick looked at them, they were clearly speaking business.

“What do you want, Wilson?”

The voice came from above them in heavily accented English, belonging to a busty woman, who was standing on top of the stairs to stare at Slade with unforgiving eyes.

“Intel,” he answered easily as they stopped at the bottom. Her frown deepened but then she sighed, rubbing her elegantly formed brow. Her skin was lighter compared to the woman they had spoken outside, her skin tone a warm brownish terra cotta that reminded him of his own mother.

“Follow me.”

They were guided further away from the entrance, entering a narrow hallway. Along the way, the wood casing stopped, making way for a concrete floor. Her office was a small room filled with books and documents, another door behind the wooden desk and the basket chair.

“You could have announced your arrival before coming here, Slade” the woman commented with a smirk. Her voice could not be further away from the cold and demanding tone she had used mere moments ago. She gestured at the chair and Slade followed the invitation with a twitch of lips as if he was doing her a favor. Maybe he was. Dick stayed behind him and the green eyes regarded him for an intense moment before deciding he was no threat.

“What _intel_ do you need?”

The amusement was clear in her voice as if she did not really believe he had come for information. Slade only leaned further back in the chair, crossing his legs and fingertips pressing together.

“A defected colonel is currently in hiding, one who does not have the best of interests for a certain powerful country and its allies,” Slade offered and a shadow passed through her expression, visible even though she smoothed it out instantly, “His name is Howard McMilligan, I am sure you know him?”

“I don’t know who you mean.”

She was aiming for the colder tone again but failing. Slade spoke on as if she had never commented.

“He is a customer of yours although not to your main establishment.”

The woman hummed, picking at the corner of her desk.

“Why should I betray one of our best costumers for you?”

“Because I could bring this establishment down, Ary. Maybe only the trade. Maybe only the illegal workers. Maybe everything,” was the cold answer though Ary seemed unimpressed and Slade smiled, “More importantly I have it on good authority that he has made more enemies than friends since he visits regularly. It will only be a matter of time until he is a problem to you as well.”

Her fingers gripped the edge tighter.

“If Ming finds out I helped you,” she frowned, contemplating and looked back at him. Dick knew from Rose Ming meant aunt but he did not understand the context or the finer nuances of the chosen word.

“How is Rose doing?”

“She is well, has even found new friends,” Slade offered and Dick could not help the incredulous look he drew him, “and she wants to visit. Maybe I will let her.”

Her eyebrows twitched upward in a faint motion.

“You mean that,” she mumbled, brushing black strands out of her face. Her nails were painted in the same green reflected in her eyes. Slade stayed silent, letting her decide if her words were right or wrong.

“Very well,” the woman said, taking a file out of the stack beside her and handing it over. Slade flipped through it before nodding.

“I knew I could count on you, Ary.”

Her lips twitched again and Dick shifted uncomfortably behind Slade. He knew where this was going, had known since they had stepped into the room but denied it.

“Are you going to stay?”

Slade let out a hum, a deep sound that filled the room. He grasped for the file when Slade held it out and Dick knew just from the look in the single eye, that Slade’s priority really had not been the information. His stomach clenched in unease and maybe something else he did not want to name.

“For the night. Yes.”

He should be glad Slade was deciding to take someone else to bed after what had happened last time. A tiny voice reminded him Slade had not used him for his own desires at any time. It had been control at first, punishment and an outlet for anger second. Dick grit his teeth, tried to stop being so disappointed by it. After so long it could only be good if he was left alone for a few hours, to finally have time to sort through the mess in his head – Dick shuddered – after he had seen a village burn down, down, down…

“Oh.”

Dick blinked at her.

“He can stay with some of my girls but not with the collar,” Ary spoke on.

All things considered, Dick could only praise himself when he did not flinch back from Slade because the man had certainly not been standing in front of him a moment prior. Trying to appear calm and collected, Dick tilted his head to give him better access, focusing on a red book with golden writing.

It had become a habit to let Slade so close but with someone else in the room the gesture felt as intimate as on the first day, a silent but intense reminder that it was not normal to wear a collar no matter how accustomed he had gotten to it.

Slade tugged the collar away, fingers still curled around the side of his neck as he faced the patron again. The touch was too prominent on his skin and his toes curled in nervousness. Ary regarded the action with a carefully blank expression, trying too hard to figure out what they meant to each other. Dick wanted to say nothing because after what he had witnessed how could Slade still evoke so many conflicting feelings in him? He should hate him with a burning ferocity.

“Keep him warm and fed, nothing more.”

Ary nodded, knocking on the door behind her and calling for one of her girls. It was not long before the door opened and a woman, who could not be older than he was, entered.

“You can talk,” Slade spoke in a low voice, eye on Ary while she spoke with the younger woman but mouth nearly pressed to Dick’s skin, “but the mask stays on.”

Dick nodded, felt the squeeze of the hand and took it as a sign to stand up. The girl smiled at him, greeting him with her hands together and a small bow and guiding him out of the room.

Dick looked over his shoulder, watching Ary step closer to Slade, one of her hands touching his shoulder, brushing down to his chest. Mirth danced in the single eye as the woman whispered into his ear and Dick grit his teeth, shook his head.

They entered a grander room with couches and armchairs, the two residing women were playing cards and talking. He could see the alarm in his guide’s eyes but by then the two had already noticed them. They were greeted as well. The older woman with a lot more respected and Dick mimicked the gesture. She asked something and then there was the word for aunt again. Dick watched the younger women retreat to the couch, leaving the chair in front of the elder empty.

“Please take a seat,” the woman spoke, greeting him with an introduction, “My name is Pheakdei.”

He hesitated before revealing his own name, doing as he was told. Her skin color matched Rose’s, maybe a tiny bit darker through the sun but definitely the taupe brown color of driftwood the young girl possessed. The resemblance did not stop there even the slightly upturned nose was the same. It would not have shocked him if the woman revealed she was somehow related to Rose.

“So you came with the Terminator,” she noted and Dick bit his lip, knowing she did not need confirmation, “How is Rose doing?”

Dick parted his lips just to close them again and Pheakdei smiled, starting to serve them tea and he watched silently not knowing where to begin nor if it was a good idea to speak to her about the topic. It was the laugh lines that convinced him. She had obviously seen Rose grow up to be the lively five-year-old he had learned to know all those years ago. Maybe she would even tell him about Lilian and Rose in return.

The woman listened calmly, nodding and smiling and laughing from time to time, sometimes giving her little commentary about the things that had changed.

“Your English is really good, how did you learn to speak it so well?” he asked after listening to a story involving Rose’s first swim in the Tonle Sap.

“As you will know American troops worked with us. I did have to pick up a few things. It is easy to be left out of the loop otherwise.”

He could relate a lot more than he wanted.

“I was better in it once, mind you,” she spoke on and Dick smiled.

“Any other languages you are fluent in? I would not mind to switch it up.”

Pheakdei laughed, a light sound but deep out of her belly.

“Mandarin? It is growing more popular with every passing day. I would not mind testing my tongue in Vietnamese again either.”

“Both languages work just fine for me,” Dick answered. He had always liked to mix languages, had loved to learn a new one since his days in the circus and the more different tongues he could converse with in one day, the better.

“Only if it is not a hassle for you, I am glad to hear about Rose, that is all that counts for me,” it was spoken with conviction.

“It is not,” Dick said and grinned, remembering one of Rose’s favorite shows, delving right into Mandarin with his next words, “Rose loves that one TV-Show. I have no idea how she knows it but I expect Adeline has something to do with it. Her,” he hesitated for a moment not knowing what to call her, “Well, Rose sees her as family and she stays with her from time to time.”

“Is it not common that kids like TV-Shows?” Pheakdei asked back, the mandarin falling more easily from her lips.

Dick laughed, “I thought you met her father.”

“Oh I have not only met him, I know him,” she responded dryly, “but I was of the opinion he had not banished television out of her life.”

“He has not,” Dick admitted, “It’s a Chinese and French production. She loves to listen to it in French and I have no idea if she understands enough but she likes it and she knows a new French word every time she watches an episode. I guess that’s the real reason why Slade approves. She actually wants to improve her Mandarin with it as well. God, sometimes I want to tell her to stop. That she does not have to take the fun out of everything for her father. But she loves those episodes even though there are only twenty-five. When she speaks along… I don’t think I have ever seen her do something more adorable.”

Pheakdei chuckled as he let out a laugh.

“Scratch that. Sometimes she tries out Kung-Fu moves and it’s just. It’s just fun for her. She only tries to be like the girl on the show, like a hero not like her father wants her to be. She doesn’t try to be perfect, she just moves.”

Dick shook his head, “She genuinely seems to love something her father did not tell her to love.”

It was silent. The two other women were listening as well, hearing the emotion in their words.

“She has a better life than I thought,” Pheakdei spoke finally, setting her tea cup down, “and I have to say I did not expect to hear so much about her. If Slade visits then to use our connections and he might say Rose is fine but I know him. Our definitions of fine differentiate too much from each other.”

There was certain hardness to her voice that made Dick keep silent.

“And if I may say so, I did not expect a young man like you to be a companion of him. I have met a lot of people in my life, had to learn how to keep the good from the bad. You are not a bad man.”

“I do not consider myself one,” Dick answered, though he could still see the beheaded man in front of him.

Pheakdei contemplated her next words and then she started as if she had simply waited to get those words out.

“People come to us to satisfy their urges, not only the sexual. I am sure Wilson told you and if he did not,” she shrugged “It won’t be hard to figure out.”

Dick was fairly sure now, that the white powder in the cupboard was, in fact, opium.

"They come to forget their problems. It means over short or long they talk.”

Dick frowned.

“Wilson never talked,” Pheakdei said, the three words holding a weight to them as if they were printing into his skin, “He made us talk, used our weapons like they were his own. Still does.”  

“He was supposed to protect Lilian and he did,” her mouth twisted at the end, “but he has never been and never will be a good man. Lilian knew, so she tried to keep Rose hidden. She succeeded because why should a mercenary care for a woman he left behind?”

“It was his friend who found her, major Wintergreen. Saw her blue eyes and counted one and one together. He was here after hearing about the attack, knew Lilian was dead. I believed he would not tell his friend but as much as Wintergreen is a better man than Wilson, he is loyal to a fault.”

“That he is,” Dick admitted.

Pheakdei huffed, leaning back in her chair.

“Loyalty is a strange thing. I cannot say, I am not loyal to my sisters but would I let a child grow up here even if it was blood if it already had someone who loved it and an environment much safer than ours? I believe I would not.”

They fell in silence. Dick knew loyalty but would he really not go against Bruce when it counted? And had Wintergreen not made sure Rose could be a child when she wanted?

“I hope she does not forget the life she lived her, her culture. She deserves to know her father’s world is not the only one she is welcome in.”

A new smile stole itself onto his lips.

“She has not forgotten and she won’t. Her biggest wish is to visit again one day,” he told her, nearly reaching out to grasp her hand before he reined his emotions in. As much as he suspected the elder woman was not going to interpret it as rudeness, she had another aura around her that set her apart from the others.

“When she is older she will come even if her father is against her decision. I know because he will never take her indomitable will from her.”

Pheakdei looked surprised at his words and he wondered how exactly Slade had made his presence known since he had ties to Lilian’s family because that was clearly what they all were.

“She still speaks Khmer, tries to teach it to me through secret messages and cooks the food she misses.”

“My little Aun all grown up and cooking?”

“Yeah, she told me it was her mother’s favorite.”

Pheakdei knew what he was talking about instantly and her brown eyes flared up when she began to speak further about the cuisine of Cambodia. Dick listened intrigued, cheeks heating when his belly begun to grumble and he was reminded that he had not eaten since the other day. They left for the kitchen when Pheakdei declared it was time for dinner anyway before the first guests would arrive so they both ventured into the kitchen, eating with the other women. Only Ary and Slade were still gone.

“Would you like to try some fried spiders tomorrow before you take your leave?” Pheakdei asked when she guided him to the room reserved for Slade and him.

It was not something he had eaten before but, “Sure. I would love to try it.”

“Huh,” she replied, “not what I expected from someone who grew up in America.”

“I traveled a lot when I was a kid,” he admitted, “I learned to keep my judgment at bay for the most part.”

“That’s how Wilson knows you?”

He huffed.

“You could say that.”

Pheakdei raised an eyebrow at his amusement, thankfully not asking why the question was getting a laugh out of him.

“One last thing,” he said holding the door open but not entering the room yet and she regarded him expectantly, “How did Lilian die?”

“I cannot give you an answer,” she admitted, “Rose knows more about those events than I.”

Dick bit the insides of his cheeks, anger rising in his chest at the implication that Rose had seen everything.

“But who knows, maybe Wilson knows even more,” her expression full of contrived mirth.

“You think,” he did not dare speak out his thought. As easy as killing was to Slade, his loved ones were at the very least protected from death by his hands.

“Scorning a man like him never goes well and Lilian did,” Pheakdei spoke, her right hand formed into a fist and her gaze swept away, “It had something to do with him as much is apparent.”

Dick licked his lips, nodding to show he understood and Pheakdei relaxed slightly, for a second more vulnerable than he had thought he would ever see her on this visit.

“Try to find out, will you?”

He nodded again. Closure, she was seeking closure and he understood her. If he had never found Tony Zucco, he would still think about revenge and justice every day.

“I will.”

He watched her retreating back before stepping into the room, smiling when he could make out the peak of Wat Phnom. The windows were open, the warm wind playing with the curtains and carrying in the noises of the street. Dick could hear the faint sound of a jackhammer from a construction side.

He stepped into the little bath tied to the room, dressing in the clothing laid out for him, recognizing it as a set from Slade. Getting out of the mask was a relief and he lay down on the bed, brushing his hair back as he closed his eyes.

For a second everything was alright. Maybe he even got a few precious minutes of sleep before the neon lights flooded the room in pinkish and red colors. The lights danced along the wooden ceiling and Dick felt sick to his stomach, rising to his feet with a hand pressed over his mouth. The events were still too fresh in his mind. If he closed his eyes he could still see the two women running with the twins in their arms and the way Slade had so calmly raised his gun.

His face felt numb as blood rushed out of it.

He was losing this fight, slowly but surely.

The flask on the nightstand with its white powder nearly tempted him. He had never fallen for drugs even if painkillers were a constant companion in his field. For years he had punished himself with recklessness instead. With Slade around it was no option though and his gaze slipped back to the flask. He was not this weak, he reminded himself. And as much as he trusted Slade to take care of him should he be too drugged out to think straight -it was stupid, really, why should Slade care -, he knew the rage afterward could easily turn out to be worse than anything he had seen before. And getting drug addiction on his résumé while he was with his enemy? Bad idea, especially if he wanted to end this without actively killing someone. Enough people had died because of him and still, he feared the next missions would entail only more death.

The microphone of the temple echoed through the white noise in his head and he sighed, settling onto the windowsill, watching the people walk by. The last sun rays were shimmering on the horizon more rose colored than glowing in a bright orange.

What he assumed was the Royal Palace was illuminated by light further away to his left and Dick leaned his side against the wall, watching the street come to life. The bass of the music was vibrating in his chest. Soon the stars were twinkling over his head and Dick craved for the rooftops, craved to feel like a hero instead of hoping some of the villagers had made it out alive.

Slade could have easily ended the job while he had been out or even Queen Bee herself.

His hands balled into fists, teeth cracking.

He should have known from the beginning, should have made a call to the team. Were they investigating now? Would they someday know he had watched instead of helping? He should have fought harder, should have planned for such a mission.

It had been naive to think Slade would give him an easy way out and now Pheakdei was another person warning him about Slade. How could he be so blind even though he had known better for years and why was it so hard to remember what Slade was? Could the next mission even be worse? Was this the peak or just one of many?

And how could he evade his payment without remaining in his debt? Would Slade even allow anything else but death by his hands? After everything, Dick could not imagine how this year would end and the ending was becoming tangible like a bad taste in his mouth, like a sickness creeping into his body.

The thoughts were a maelstrom pulling him down, repeating in his head more like accusations than questions. They caught and reappeared until Dick was sure he would never be able to think about anything else.

“You should do more sleeping and less soulless sleeping, kid.”

Dick flinched at the gruff voice right behind him, turning quickly. His wide eyes did not hold his attention for too long as it focused on the violet blue shimmering half-moons he had carved into his palms over the last hours. Dick swallowed and focused his gaze back on the busy streets.

A sigh resounded behind him but instead of leaving him, strong arms embraced him from behind. Insisting hands forcing his fists to loosen until he could only sink his blunt nails into Slade’s skin. Dick was trying to focus his anger against Slade, only to realize that all he felt was despair at his own actions.

He leaned back against the strong chest but enveloped by Slade he could smell the poignant fragrance of Ary’s bloomy perfume. Jealousy curled in his stomach and it made him sick.

He kept his eyes on the street, watching the nightlife bustle below them, wishing he was walking among them, ignorant to what lurked in the shadows and to a life that was so complicated, Dick sometimes failed to realize it.

Slade shifted, probably leaning against the frame if the shadow was any indication and Dick closed his eyes, felt the strong broad chest brush against his back with every deep breath. A thumb was stroking over the back of his hand, his hands slowly growing warm again. It was hard not to forget what else Slade could do when he was so gentle.

The noose was getting tighter around his neck. There was no going back and no going forward either. He craved to clear his mind, to just exist on a rooftop. Dick gnawed at his lip and softly breathed out.

Maybe there was a way forward. Maybe he wasn’t damned to be the meat Slade tore into when he felt like it. Maybe he was a fool.

Dick tilted his head up with all the intention to make this into a standoff but his carefully constructed defiant masked crumbled when he took in the relaxed expression on Slade’s face, tight lines around his good eye eased. White strands were falling into his face and stubble had reappeared on his jaw. The pupil grew smaller when it adjusted back to the light, looking like a tiny island in the arctic sea.

“What if we took on missions that normally wouldn’t fall into your area?”

“Like?” Slade asked.

“Helping when help is needed. Helping without money.”

Slade watched him intensely and Dick had a hard time keeping the gaze. It was like a slap in his face when Slade’s lips twisted in amusement and Dick tensely focused back on the streets.

“Alright.”

The breath caught in his throat and he twisted back around with wide eyes, breathing out shakily when he saw the smile on Slade’s face. It was nearly tender but he had no clue if it was genuine.

“And no killing” he added with a tight voice.

Slade huffed.

“No killing.”

He worked his jaw. The tense silence expanded as the gravity of those affirmations sunk in.

“Slade,” he whispered, “give me your word.”

His voice was breaking around the words what had threatened to consume him for the last few hours trying to break through the forefront but he could not let himself be vulnerable again. But the words were out and Slade knew anyway.

“You have my word,” Slade promised, knuckles brushing over his cheekbone down to his mouth and down his throat just for the hand settle on his shoulder, “Any missions under your patronage will be executed under your rules.”

It was not as much relieve as he hoped it would be but it was something. At least he could accept it for the moment, appease his mind. It was a petty reason to save lives but it was the only thing he could do if he did not want to wither and die. Those missions would only be a marginal part of their plans. It would alert the Light and other unwanted attention if Deathstroke became more than a mercenary out for money.

“We still have a few hours,” Slade spoke up when the music downstairs stopped for a beat, “The flight back to the US will be exhausting enough as it is. You should get some sleep.”

Dick saw enough reason to follow him back to bed, crawling under the thin blanket and watching as Slade unbuttoned his blouse, revealing his muscled chest.

“You were gone for longer than I expected.”

Slade shot him a glance, pulling the blouse off.

“I figured you would want some time away from me.”

Dick ad figured as well and been dead wrong. Time away would not fix his problem.

“You slept with her.”

It had not been supposed to slip out and Dick waited with baited breath as Slade halted, shirt dangling between his strong fingers before he straightened again and pulled it over his head.

“I happen to enjoy sex.”

Dick knew or at least he should after offering his body had gone so well. Truth to be told, Dick had never believed Slade would leave himself vulnerable to just anyone; then again Ary did not seem to be just anyone.

“I would know, don’t you think?” he shot back, maybe a second too late.

“One would assume you do,” Slade agreed, finally sliding into bed and Dick rolled his shoulders, turning to face his back at the mercenary.

He tossed and turned, mind as empty as he would get it but even exhausted his body did not want to shut down as if punishing him for his weakness. The frustration was clawing up his throat and he stared at the flask again before turning around to Slade instead. How anyone could sleep on their back was a mystery to him.

Staring at him, made him feel like a child waiting to get permission to crawl into his parent’s bed after a nightmare. His tongue stuck to his dry mouth as he waited, either for his courage to make an appearance or his sanity.

Neither did, Slade just opened his eye.

“Did Rose tell you that she wants to visit Cambodia again?” Dick asked, holding his head up with a hand.

Slade was silent, gaze flickering over his face. Without the bright reddish neon lights, they held a gray color again and as much as Dick had related the color to the glinting metal of his sword before, the color had nothing of that shine now. They were as gray as heavy clouds.

“No.”

The word was spoken calmly, a thoughtful pause before it. Dick knew him good enough by now to realize how much it bothered maybe even hurt him, that Rose was confining herself to him.

“So you assumed when you spoke to Ary. Thought so,” he mumbled and then: “She is afraid to trouble you. She thought you would never have the time but she does want to visit with you.”

Slade hummed.

“Then I should keep my word to Ary.”

Dick could feel a smile blooming on his lips even though he should not be happy. His mind was more peaceful just through Slade’s obvious presence and if that was not just wrong he did not know what was.

“I thought keeping your word was your thing.”

“I didn’t make a contract with her,” Slade reminded, “Now come here.”

The end was nearly an impatient snap and Dick bit his lip to keep from smiling as he scooted closer, fitting to Slade’s side like a missing puzzle piece. His burning eyes closed when a hand combed through his hair before securing him in a half hug. Dick fisted his own hand into the fabric of his shirt, arm trapped over the chest his head was lying on.

The sweet smell of perfume was tickling his nose, mocking him but he finally fell into a light slumber, waking every so often when the music changed.

His exhaustion had lessened by morning, his mind feeling fresh compared to the hazy dull matter it had been during the night.

Ary expected them at the back door, smiling at Slade and Dick stayed a few feet away when she drew nearer again, speaking in Khmer. Asking why her? Why not me? Was starting to be a physical craving but he recognized the danger, knew what power such a question held and he was not willing to feel the repercussions.

Before she could touch Slade though, with her elegant fingers and push her bosom up against his body, her whole demeanor changed. Dick could see the distaste from the first-day return as she crossed her arms and held her head high.

The cause was easily found as Pheakdei walked down the stairs behind him and Dick felt a smile pull at his face that she returned. After a formal greeting her smile vanished as she sought out Slade with her dark eyes.

“Terminator.”

The animosity between them was tangible.

“Pheakdei.”

The woman’s smile turned sly as she looked back at Dick and he soon found himself with a ration of food in his hands. Two promised fried spiders and Krolan, a mixture of sticky white rice and coconut milk punctuated by a few black beans, all inside a bamboo stalk.


	24. (War) Crimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present you one of two chapters from Slade's perspective. This one was especially hard to write because Slade tries damn hard to keep his emotions from Dick and generally tries so damn hard to be one big paradox. (And he does or rather did that in canon too, which is why his very first on-going was narrated by Wintergreen. Someone should warn Dick that Slade can’t even admit his own thoughts to his own thoughts.)
> 
> I’m generally mixing a lot of Wolfman canon (Deathstroke Vol. 1) with my Fanon in this one. It was nice to remember that Slade actually had some kind of supporting cast made of people he trusts before certain events made him into a complete maniac pre-N52.
> 
> Wiki How is also turning into my best friend (while Grammarly seems more and more like an English nightmare).

His eyes were narrowed, tiny blood vessels prominent in his sclera. The flight back to America had not done Dick better than a bed in Cambodia. One hour of sleep in the past two days was nothing even a hero shrugged off just like that, especially with the emotional baggage Dick had to carry. The only reason Dick had retained some of his spark during their journey back to the US was the food Pheakdei had given him.

But only since they had stepped through the entrance of the skyscraper had the pure exhaustion been replaced by absolute vigilance as if Dick expected the elevator doors to be the gate to hell. The grip around the weapons bag had tightened more and more on their way up.

The ping announced their arrival and his shoulders squared a tiny bit more, right foot shifting. It was the bright light that forced Dick to look away, sensitive eyes watering.

The first step into the sunlight penthouse clicked against the ground, too fast, too full of relief. Tension built and fell in his shoulders as he took the place in, categorizing escape routes and possible weapons. Finally the bag with weapons slipped out of his hand to the ground.

Dick turned back to him, eyes wide but no less inquiring.

"What are we doing here?"

When he did not answer they turned weary, arms crossing over his chest, building a shield between them. He did not tell him to keep his feelings in check. Knew one misplaced word would be enough to send the hero further into self-destruction.

He stepped towards the kitchen counter to power the coffee machine and Dick moved with him in his periphery but kept the same distance between them.

“Personal matters,” Slade told him and Dick tilted his head dubiously, “Preparation for the next missions as well.”

Dick frowned, brow curling. Maybe he had hoped they would return to Rose and Wintergreen when they had a break from missions. Slade admittedly had played with the idea before this had turned into the more lucrative decision.

“Are you alright?”

Dick shifted, fingertips digging into his arm and long black strands falling in front of his eyes.

“I’m fine.”

“Dick.”

It made his stance even more defensive and his eyes flashed with misaimed bravado, the cracks in his armor visible as if Dick was already bleeding.

“What do you want me to say? That you are a second away from snapping me like a dry twig?”

The stream of words - sharp and biting and raw and true -, were uncomfortably real, ringing loud and clear in the room.

The coffee started to brew, the sound just a ripple through the silence.

Maybe it had grown worse again during the flight. Maybe it was the fact that they were in his team’s immediate range. Maybe Dick felt safer here despite his prior apprehension.

Silence was an underestimated power, a power he knew to use, so it was no surprise when tears gathered in the sky blue eyes. And under different circumstances, he would have used the moment to tear him down, comfort him with a shoulder to cry on that could not have been less genuine.

But this was his fault, so he turned to the coffee and gave him a moment to gather his strength because he had not lied. The drug had been supposed to take effect sooner. Dick had not been meant to see what Queen Bee had in store for the village. But even with his precaution, he had never expected Dick to suffer under the events for days.

As a soldier and as a mercenary he had seen all kinds of reactions to death and Dick was able to deal with corpses. The long silence after the first death mission should have been warning enough and if not that, then the solo mission. But he had not paid enough attention, thought Dick would accustom to the killing.

Now it was glaringly obvious why Dick would never assimilate so easily. The reaction was conditioned.

Dick’s fear, Dick’s self-hatred it all came down to guilt, to disappointment, to owing. Maybe Batman had never intended it; maybe he had known exactly what he was doing. And maybe Dick knew, even if only unconditionally. It would explain why he was hell bent to get Rose away from him.

It would take more than a year to work him free of the learned behavior even if he presented the likes of the Joker on a silver tray. Dick would kill him with the right touch but the aftermath? Slade did not dare to foretell it.

Break him or keep him, only two choices to comply with the contract. Slade had not planned to do either.

Dick had settled onto the bar chair at the kitchen isle and Slade pushed one cup of coffee in his direction. Both hands pressed to the warm porcelain in an instant, fingers curling.

"Thank you," Dick whispered, gaze down.

The seconds ticked by. Slade tasted the strong coffee, watching the sun throw patterns onto the wooden floor. Hands buried into raven hair, shoulders shaking but he heard no sound and when Dick finally took a sip as well his eyes were still tired but his lashes did not stick together with shed tears.

“Are you going to tell me more?” Dick asked, hand under his chin. The exhaustion was visible in every line of his body. Just a few words had reopened the wounds they had closed in Cambodia. Dick struggled hard with his next words as if he would rather want to accept his silence.

“If we are not here for a mission, then what are we preparing for?”

As if a clarification it would make fishing for information easier.

“It’s nothing big. We just need a better disguise for you.”

“We could have done that anywhere else.”

He emptied his cup, noting the irritation in his voice with a hidden smile.

“Do you want praise for that intelligent observation?” he asked with a small smirk and Dick closed his eyes, eyebrow twitching.

“If praise includes answers,” was the calm reply and his eyes fluttered open again.

“We’ll travel to Sydney to shadow a young woman in a holiday resort. Even if Richard Grayson won’t get much attention in Australia, no paparazzi should accidentally get the story of their lifetime.”

Dick frowned, chin rising.

“Where was the praise?"

"Patience, Grayson."

Dick’s lips twitched, the reaction masked by the back of his hands pressing to his lips as if the tiniest spark of amusement would make him betray his beliefs all over again.

“So, the master disguise will be?”

The slip up was covered with dramatic pronunciation and a smile cracking at the edges.

“Blond hair.”

Dick waited, lips pulling back into a frown as he leaned forward, arms crossed loosely on the wood.

“And?”

“That’s it.”

“You’re kidding me,” tumbled out of his mouth, “What about lenses? What about literally anything else?”

He was halfway off the chair already, palms pressed flat to the isle. The hidden transaction had undeniably struck a nerve.

“You’ll be at the pool all day long and if you are not, you will be at the beach. I didn't think you would enjoy lenses under those conditions."

His lips parted for words but out came a sigh and Dick brushed through his hair, hand slipping to his neck and staying there.

“My role in this mission?”

It was spoken with trepidation as he sunk back into the seat.

“You'll befriend a potential contact and look good. I heard you are good at those things.”

“Heard?” Dick quipped, heartbeat picking up a notch despite the tripping fake sweetness in his voice.

“Know,” he replied with a chuckle and Dick huffed, rolling his eyes. The banter was tentative. Balm for Dick’s soul no matter how temporary.

The silence returned brushing around them, Dick watching the single cloud slowly cross the blue sky in front of the large windows and sipping on his coffee. Slade rolled up his sleeves and rinsed the empty cup out, placing it onto the sink for later.

“What about McMilligan?”

He had expected the question hours ago.

“It’s not a mission that concerns you--”

"Slade--"

"I wasn't finished," he stopped him firmly before the anger in his voice could waver and crack again, his fingers curled around the counter. If not for the disaster with Queen Bee, he would not be telling him this.

“McMilligan is a paranoid man. He’ll make the needed mistakes without my assistance. But those mistakes will take months to bear fruit. Hence it won’t have anything to do with you.”

If Ary played her part well and she would, had never disappointed before, then McMilligan would be leaving his footprints all over the world soon enough. The right words whispered into his ear while he was high on drugs would be enough.

It was obvious Dick wanted to know more but it never came to a standoff, even though Slade had learned to expect them.

"You still haven't explained why we are here."

“No,” Slade admitted, “I haven’t.”

The blue eyes stayed on him, no sound escaping his lips. A nail picked on the porcelain, the sound mimicking the noise of approaching warhorses. Dick's anger was reined in behind murderous blue.  

"You'll know soon enough," Slade replied and pushed away from the counter, "For now we'll concentrate on your hair."

The anger wavered and Dick hesitated before following him. The tentative steps nearly made him expect to feel a tiny hand gripping for his sleeve. Five-year-old Rose had not been the whirlwind she was today. His daughter had felt alien in her environment for a while. And darkness had scared her the most.

Dick had stopped in the middle of the hall, eyes roaming over the - with paintings covered - walls and catching on the chandelier. One hand had curled into a fist. When his attention was noticed, Dick only hesitated a second longer before walking the last few steps towards him.

Dick glanced at his hand on the golden doorknob, urging him to push down. When he did not, those blue eyes focused on him again. Slade reached out and even though Dick froze at the touch to his cheek, he did not pull away.

“It reminds you of the manor,” he stated and Dick flinched, tension rising again. Slade smiled; the expression Dick would no doubt interpret as cruel.

“Don’t worry, we won’t be here for long,” he reasoned, opening the door to the grand bathroom.

Dick's eyebrows raised in surprise when he revealed the modern bath, which could hardly be called by the simple name. It came closer to a salon but incorporated a sauna as well. The only reason why he had more than the average gadgets here, was because this was a base and not a safe house.

Slade gestured for him to take a seat and after another skeptic glance at his surroundings, Dick settled into the chair.

“Doesn’t bleaching take more than one process?” Dick asked tiredly.

“Whoever said something about bleaching?”

Dick's nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Oh, come on, Slade. You don’t give me lenses. I won’t take a wig.”

Slade let his amusement show because the image Dick gave off could only be described as the perfect example of the man-child he was supposed to be as Brucie’s heir. The acting was good but no less fake.

"Bad experience?"

Dick shrugged.

"I hated that,” he pursed his lips, “thing."

Slade huffed, picked up the products and the electric shaver. Dick stared at the device as if it was the aforementioned blond wig.

“If you give me an undercut, Slade, I swear to god.”

“You are an easily impressible young man who plays a game out of your league, what other hairstyle would you have?”

“Something that’s less generic because I am still stupid enough to date a known mercenary?”

“Stupid is the key word, Grayson.”

Dick sent him a glare and it did not waver in the next seconds which meant he was not reflecting his words on his own situation, really the last thing Slade needed right now.

“Doesn't mean I have to look the part.”

“We’ll lighten your hair with brown color. The longer strands will be bleached. Happy?”

"So no cutting?" Dick tried a second time, innocent smile on his face that had probably made everyone squeal and swoon when he had been a kid.

“Are you always so whiny when you go to a hairdresser?”

His eyes narrowed faintly.

“I haven’t gone to a hairdresser since I left the manor.”

“That explains a lot.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m sometimes inclined to search for real robins in that nest you call hair.”

“Asshole.”

“Since when do you use indignities, brat?”

"Since certain people don't give me another choice," came the immediate reply, voice laced with thick amusement.

But the words were contemplated just as fast, Dick's face going through an array of emotions until it finally settled on a small smile despite the doubt and guilt. Slade huffed, stepping behind Dick and brushing the black hair back. It was soft between his grasp and not at all how he had just described it. For a second he was inclined to follow Dick's request.

The brown color was only a tiny bit lighter but it would make enough difference to keep paparazzi off their tail together with the other changes. Dick's hair had grown longer in the last months, falling messily down to his chin and covering his neck.

"Your name is David Finlay," Slade began to explain while applying the color, "I met you here, in Chicago. Your older brother is employed in a security firm I own."

"You own a security firm?" Dick blurred out, though not the least bit ashamed to ask now that he had the opportunity.

"I do," Slade confirmed, at least he was financing them; "We met when your brother got hurt on a job. He is still in critical condition."

"How convenient," Dick whispered and after a beat added, "Why grow interested in me?"

"You are young. Easily impressible. Have no family left. Your brother trained you. Why shouldn't I use you for a few missions before throwing you to the wolves?"

"Because you don't work with others."

"Often," Slade corrected, "A good part of our community has heard whispers that you exist. If they believe it or not. They won't ask questions because they know no answer will be true. Business partners we might encounter won't care for you at all. You're just the added bonus to a vacation.  Anyone else doesn't have a reason to question your presence by my side. The only reason you have a cover at all is because you have to tell our person of interest a believable story."

"And you couldn't say this without the throwing you to the wolves comment?"

Slade let go of the last strand.

"I'm not going to coddle you."

Expect he already was.

He checked if the dye had covered everything and let go of the wet hair. It really had grown long, some strands sticking to Dick's shoulders. How had he missed that?

The familiar silence returned as the dye started to take effect and Slade pulled out his phone, leaning against the sink.

The reminder for the mission tonight was already blinking up, telling him not to forget the invitation he had received as a letter. It was the real reason why they were here. After years and years the government had finally decided to shut the research relating to the super soldier serum down and who better to do the job than him? An old general he had worked with was head of the program, obsessed to find the formula to the serum his predecessor had created. He thought Slade was present to enable a breakthrough.

Wintergreen had given him a status update as well. Rose and he had already arrived in England in the new house or rather manor in the countryside, that had belonged to Wintergreen’s aunt prior to her death. Rose would learn to call the place home. Slade was not sure about himself.

He sighed when he read Rose was missing them, following the news religiously to try and catch a sighting.

It was a risk to change their housing while Dick was with them but they had stayed for far too long already and it took time to erase any traces from their current house. Not to mention preparations had started two years ago, way before Dick had contacted him.

Rose had made sure her namesake would immigrate to England as well and it had been his promise to safely bring the plant overseas, that had made her agree to keep the move hidden from Dick.

Dick settled up, thrumming fingers finally coming to a standstill as he walked through the bath like a caged tiger, opening the cupboards curiously. Slade let him, opening the media tags he kept on the superheroes. Trouble was on its way between the young generation and the Justice League which could only mean Artemis had distributed the information about Luthor.

“When you shave, don’t take too much away on the right side.”

Slade put his phone away, “Why?”

“Bullet wound," Dick replied quietly as if he was ashamed of it.

“Show me,” Slade demanded, pushing away from the sink.

Dick hesitated but then he took his half-raised hand, leading his fingers to the slight bump. A graze wound but close enough, Slade recognized that easily.

“Who?”

Dick shrugged, already pulling away to settle back into the seat, ignoring the growl in his voice as much as Slade did.

“I don’t remember. Sometimes they try to shoot us from the sky.”

The way Dick said it as if it was an everyday experience - because it was - made him halt because obviously he had known but in their world, it was easy to forget that heroes like Dick could still be killed by a simple bullet.

Dick yawned when he checked the warmth of the water, humming when he brushed with both hands through his wet hair. Eyes fluttering shut for a second before staring back up at him again. They were piercing again, not with anger but with a clearness and sureness missing in the last hours.

"Lean back and enjoy it if you want," Slade told him and Dick held his gaze for a moment longer before relaxing into the backrest, lashes casting shadows onto his cheeks.

He took care in taking the excessive dye out, digging his thumb into his neck to work the tension free. A shudder went through Dick, making him relax entirely until the weight of his head was safely held by his hands.

“Do you also own a salon?” Dick asked; the hum in his voice an undertone Slade could not ignore.

“No. This is something I learned a long time ago.”

"Tell me why," Dick whispered, not quite asking but not demanding either.

"Years of experience with disguises," Slade told him, watching one eyebrow jump upwards.

"Oh come on, why lie about your massage skills?"

Because it was personal and any information could make Dick more dangerous than he already was.

"My stepmother had chronic neck pain," he relented, not telling Dick that it had been the cause of an injury she had gained from his father. It had nearly killed her. Slade could still remember coming home from a mission overseas just to see find her in the hospital. They had already been divorced for years by then but with Wade and him gone, his begetter had expected she would be an easy target for his decimated pride. Big mistake.

"Slade Wilson, the good Samaritan," Dick quipped and Slade splashed water against his cheek, relishing in the yelp that escaped Dick followed by a deeper laugh, lips curling into a brilliant smile. He was not sure what to do with him. He was not immune to his charm, to the growing desire to see him smile even if it was a recent realization, only at the front of his consciousness because the smile had been gone. 

It was one of his biggest flaws. 

How much he cared for Adeline, he had only realized when she had taken their boys with her. He had sworn to do better with Rose and maybe that was the reason why every clash with Dick about her made him angry beyond reason.

“Don’t fall asleep,” he murmured when Dick’s breaths begun to even out.

“’m not,” Dick mumbled, shifting in his seat.

“Kid,” he warned but Dick only hummed when he squeezed the water from his hair, brushing through the strands again before taking a towel to try it further.

He let him drift off despite his words, steadying his head. If he had learned anything from the flight and last night, then that Dick needed it. The penthouse phone was ringing and for a moment he pondered to leave him alone but his fingers found the bullet scar again and he stayed, massaging his scalp for a few minutes longer, always coming back to the scar he had not known existed.

An hour later the deed was finally done with much scowling on Dick’s part once the now ashy brown locks begun to fall to the floor.

The longer blond strands were falling into his face, accenting his bright blue eyes – Slade could swear there was a hint of violet in them -, lightly curling next to his straight nose and catching on his plumb reddish lips. The blond strands drew attention to his tanned skin, not as dark as his daughter’s though he had noticed how glad she was for the resemblance.

The style made him look his age and status for once as if he belonged onto the cover of the Gotham Gazette. It still fitted with his persona, flashy but easily mistaken for ordinary.

“We are going to pluck your eyebrows,” he finally decided. The style looked too deliberate for them to go unnoticed if they were not tweaked a tiny bit.

“We are going to do what now?” Dick asked, an incredulous look on his face but Slade did not have to provide an answer when he grasped his chin, tilting his head to scrutinize him further. The closer he got, the quieter Dick grew, the heavier his breathing got.

It was growing harder to ignore the tension between them. There really was no reason to not push Dick back against the wall and take what was his payment anyway. Adeline’s words were not holding him back anymore after her stunt with Rose and Dick definitely would not stop him despite everything. Slade let him go because Dick was still standing too close to the abyss and one wrong word would be all it took to make their progress void again. He retrieved a tweezer and filled the sink with warm water.

“Tell me you know what you are doing.”

Slade arched an eyebrow pointedly. It was not as if he was following every beauty trend and high fashion certainly was nothing he kept up with but control was and appearance helped quite a lot to gain it.

"I know it's hard for you to grasp but normal people don't fall out of bed looking like perfection."

Dick stared at him, lips parting and Slade could swear for once he could see the blush creep into his cheeks. The words barely sounded teasing, Slade had to admit that but he stood to them, owned them even though he was just as surprised about them as Dick.

"But your horrendous fashion sense makes up for the injustice, kid."

Dick spluttered, gaze snapping over his body maybe to fire the shots right back at him only to realize it would not work.

“Can’t deny that" Dick admitted even though he was tilting his head to jut his chin out defensively, "So will you pick out David's clothes officially or unofficially?”

After another five minutes, Dick stood in front of the mirror, looking at his reflexion curiously. It only took a second before he tried to get the long strands out of his face, failing so miserably Slade barely kept from laughing.

"You can live with the result?"

Dick brushed his hair back yet again, trying to undo the damage just to make it even messier. The exact same strands fell back into his face a second time. His lips quirked and Dick’s did too.

"Yeah," it was the happiest he had seen him in a while. Even before Queen Bee Dick had hardly been unconcerned by the missions.

"More than that."

Ah, the masks. How easy it was for them to convince themselves to wear another one.

The phone rang again and Slade was not about to ignore it a second time. Only a handful of people had the number and he had an idea who was waiting on the other side. He left Dick to stare into the mirror. It would leave Dick time to think about his character, the mimic and gestures David used.

"Frannie."

"I thought I saw you grow up with some manners," was the immediate reply when he failed to greet her properly.

"Hello Frannie, how are you?" he huffed.

"Hello, Slade. I’m fine, thank you for asking. So," she begun, already revealing with that tiny addition, that she was not impressed by his life choices, "I heard you are taking on the contract to threaten the congresswoman."

"Mhm," he answered, Dick already emerging into the room because obviously, the trained detective would not miss a phone call.

"I don't approve."

"You profit from it as well and Peabody--"

"It is his own fault to make himself dependent of the coast," Frannie stopped him "and you know Max was against investing in this type of illegal weapons."

"Max was a good man but a hypocrite. Half of the stuff he made was made of illegal shipments and with good reason."

Dick peaked up, stopping from his rummage through his cupboards probably on the hunt for cereal, ever the vigilant vigilante.

Frannie made an affronted sound and they both stayed silent, Slade watching Dick give up on his search with a growl, taking an apple out of the fruit basket instead. He settled onto the counter instead of taking the chair right in front of him.

"And you really don't want me to visit?"

Slade barely realized that Frannie had spoken to him while he watched Dick.

"No,” Slade said slowly, barely able to concentrate on her when Dick stared back at him, “but I may visit in the next few months."

"Does that have something to do with a certain new partner?"

He switched the phone to his other ear.

"You heard about it?"

"Who hasn't, though as always Wintergreen won't tell me a thing if you do not approve first," Frannie sighed. Dick hopped from the counter, investigating further, coming to a stop in front of the bookcase, brushing over the bindings.

"What are you doing Slade?"

"Some people might call it investing in the future," he replied, following Dick into the bedroom as if the young hero was a new dog Slade had to keep an eye on, lest he started chewing on his furniture, "Is Squirrel on the way?"

"Yes. You'll like the new gadgets, I am sure."

"Alright. Thank you, Frannie."

"Visit me before I die, that's all I am asking for."

Slade could feel his lips pull into a smile at the dry black humor.

"I will,” he promised and ended the call, stepping behind Dick who was studying the pictures on his cupboard. Slade had never transferred them to his current house that would not be home for much longer and had never truly been again after Adeline had left.

Dick picked up the picture in front of him. A family picture with Frannie, Max and Wade. Frannie had already left his father by then and Wade's jealousy shone through clearly. His half-brother had always hated him, just more so when Adeline and he had started dating.

"Who are they?" Dick asked, tilting his head to face him but not turning around. Slade picked it out of his hand as if he had actually had to think about the answer. Those days had not been easier and Slade had never lived in the past but even he sometimes wondered if everything would have come different had Max not died so soon. Frannie and he together would have convinced him to work for them.

"You don't think I will give you an answer, do you?"

Dick placed the picture back when Slade held it out again.

"I guess not," was all Dick said. The picture alone had given him enough answers for now, it seemed.

Dick picked them up one by one but no other question left his lips. The picture with his old squadron from Cambodia held his attention the longest. He had come to Cambodia at the start of the Cambodian-Vietnamese war, the horrors of the Civil War still echoing in the country. His first mission after a year of training. It was then that he had learned to know Lilian when he had liked Addie but not been in love. With seventeen everything had been larger than life and she superiorly beautiful in a war-torn country, a country she understood far better than he. And years later he had met her again when everything he had with Addie was going sideways after his serum-induced coma; when the army had not taken him back. It had lasted until Joey had been hurt.  

"This isn't a safe house, Slade," Dick's voice ripped him out of his thoughts "This may just be more personal than your own home."

"I lived here before Rose started to stay with me. They are relics of a time long past."

Dick frowned, asking quietly: "After Adeline?"

His gaze flickered to the wedding picture. How happy they had been, how everything had just fitted.

"Yes."

It was silent; the pause between them becoming so common that Slade could barely take it and the blue gaze was burning into his skin, trying to scratch off the layered masks he wore.

"And you were really trying to make me believe you don't love her anymore" Dick spoke, huffing.

Years of history did not just vanish, especially if you had kids, especially if you had served together, fought together to survive. It did not matter how much they had fought, that she had shot him, tried to kill him. He would always love her even if he would never be happy with her again.

"Not going to deny you care?"

"No but caring does not mean I love her the way I did then and," Slade made a small pause, „I care for a lot more people than you would expect."

Dick tilted his head, eyebrow raised.

Care had never meant he wouldn't hurt them and trust was another thing altogether. He trusted Frannie, Wintergreen and Squirrel and that was that.

"That's surprisingly reassuring."

Dick leaned against the cupboard, deep in thought, staring through him. A new question then.

He was not willed to evade him just for the sake of it, getting Dick out of his destructive desperation was a goal before he left him alone for the night and he would only archive a sufficient peace of mind with words.

"Did you care about Lilian as well?"

It was not the question that made his hackles rise instantly, it was the fact that Dick would have never asked about her had they not been in Cambodia just yesterday.

"How long did you speak to Pheakdei?"

Dick tensed at his harsh question, making a small step away from the cupboard so he would not be cornered.

"Long enough."

Damn that woman. She had always been a thorn in his side.

"You had nothing to do with her death, right?"

The nerve of this woman.

"Do you really want to ask me that question, Dick?"

His voice was cold, chilling even.

"I can ask others just as well, Slade", he responded firmly, "But your non-answer is enough. Pheakdei was right. There is something wrong with all of this."

It was - had always been - because Lilian had been taken, not killed and he had never dared to imagine what Wade had done to her.

"Keep your nose out of my business," he warned, taking one step closer "Nothing about Lilian concerns you, have I made myself clear?"

Dick grit his teeth at the tone, eyes narrowing and hands balling into fists.

"Don't try, Slade. You took me with you. Deal with it," Dick spit, "If nothing is wrong, why do you never tell them about Rose?"

"Why should I?"

"Because Rose lived with them for five years."

"She barely remembers them."

"Because you don't give her a chance to remember!"

"She doesn't need to remember them."

"Why? Is your influence over her so fragile that you keep her away from anyone else? You would not even know she existed if not for Wintergreen!"

Dick's arms had uncrossed, gesticulating wildly and damn it, how much had Pheakdei told him? Why had Ary not made sure Dick would not meet her?

He looked at him unimpressed and Dick swallowed, trying to rein his anger in again, forcing objectivity where there was none.

"Why grow interested in her even though you did not know about her?”

He could lie. He _should_ lie.

“I used a parental test to make sure. We found out some interesting aspects to her DNA.”

Dick frowned then his eyes widened and he had crossed the distance in an instance, teeth gritted.

“The serum.”

“Yes.”

“You only took her in because of the serum?”

“I took her in because she is my daughter.”

Dick seethed in silent anger, not finding a lie.

"I don't know if you really love your daughter or if you are lying to the whole world."

Slade was not sure either.

“I took her with me because they were a brothel, an opium trade. You really think she would have it better there than with me?”

“So teaching her how to be a mass murderer is somehow better?"

"Don't tell me you would have left your own daughter in a politically unstable land, where young girls like her barely have a chance to become what they want to be?"

"What use is it to her if you control her every step? What use is it if you don't give her a choice!"

And there it was again. How they had gotten so protective of one another was beyond him. Well, he did understand in Rose’s case. She knew Dick was Robin, it was like a celebrity crush and then he had turned out to be a good friend as well. But Dick... maybe he really saw something of him in her or compared her to Artemis, who knew what she had told him about Sportsmaster and his treatment.

"You don't have any moral high ground over them!" Dick hissed, hand grabbing his shirt, "At least they actually care for family!"

He caught the fragile wrist in a death grip but the blue eyes only flashed in more uncontrolled anger. Good because he was not going to rein his own in much further.

"You have no idea what I have done for them, how much I care for them."

"Oh, really? So tell me, was Lilian part of your family or just a pretty face?" Dick chuckled, "No, wait, what do you like to call everything that does not fall into white beauty standards, _exotic_?"

Personal, everything with Dick was personal. He could not deny that he had used the word in the eighties. He was no saint and if he had learned one thing during his countless travels, then that people were born ignorant and made countless racist remarks until they learned.

Had Dick read the word in a magazine when he had been in his teens? Had the Gotham Gazette printed his pictures be-titling him not as the ward of Bruce Wayne but as Gotham’s exotic addition? Like some fruit they could eat? Like an animal the prince of Gotham held? And had that title stayed, or had they started calling him by name just to depict him with lighter and lighter skin each time?

Dick’s grip around the fabric of his shirt tightened and Dick waited, shoulders rising with every breath, patience ready to snap any second. And Slade could not say it, his higher and more efficient brain capacity failing to think about anything but Dick.

"Is-Is this a-a ba-bad time?"

Dick whirled around, heart jumping, not expecting someone here with them and without properly announcing himself before entering.

It was only instinct that allowed him to loosen his grip in time to prevent a broken wrist and his other hand shot out to Dick's hip, stopping the spin before Dick was forced to make one step back. They were still too close, bodies brushing together, Dick tense under his fingertips. 

"No, we are finished here."

Dick growled, threw him a glare, slapping his hand away and Slade's hand twitched at the insolence ready to throw him across the room.

"He-Hello," Squirrel greeted and the hero smiled, shaking his hand.

"Nice to meet you," Dick trailed off questioningly.

"Squirrel," the engineer replied, "You-You must be... Trigger?"

Dick parted his lips, nearly denying before nodding instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The blond wig is an allusion to the Batman Eternal Thanksgiving Teaser from 2013. Grayson used the wig as well on two separate occasions (#1, #12). Back in the day Dick wore a curly blond wig in Flash Vol. 2 #142 (Park&West wedding Issue) which looks worse than the modern take. Really Dick, how could you think that was a good idea?
> 
> Also I don’t know what I did to Dick’s hair either. First I just wanted him to look like Neymar with his iconic blond/brown combo but then I started thinking about Final Fantasy (especially Angeal and Caius) and fell down the rabbit hole. I looked at Visual Kei for an hour, even though I knew I didn't want Dick to have the style, so yeah... 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> The next chapter is in the making and will be published Sunday, 04. June. (Really now. Promise)


	25. Small Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been an incredibly long wait but when I started uploading this story it had 110k words, now we already reached that count and let's just say Chapter 22 to Chapter 27 did not even exist until three months ago, so just for you to know why this will take longer for a few more Chapters. And all that happened because I am such a sucker for UST.
> 
> Hope you enjoy and thank you for all the comments and the kudos!

They returned to the kitchen. The bookcase had been pushed away by a hidden mechanism revealing a secret room, which had been built with unclean Ninth metal years ago, making it unbreakable to most weapons. Dick recognized the material as well if the faint narrow of his eyes was any indication. He had probably heard about the material from the Hawks or even met them and if not, his mentor was too careful to keep such vital information from the vigilantes he called family. His current sturdy metal suit was encased in the same metal thanks to Vandal Savage and his ties to the Light. And Dick knew the short glance at the suit enough evidence.

Even though long since telling himself to abandon this place, he still had a lot of quality weapons stored here, most of them different firearms from Colt to bazooka but also three old swords. Dick’s gaze caught on the used hilts and the obvious nicks in the metal. Most of his old swords were unusable, relics from more than ten years ago.

"So Trigger really did make the round?" Slade asked as he eyed the black suit in front of him.

A red line broke through the black. It stretched from pointer finger to neck, growing broader over the back of the hand before engulfing the whole arm and thinning out once getting past the shoulder, making a thin splash over the throat. The sleeker collar, still with three tiny glinting red lights in the middle, fitted to it as if it was just an accessory.

"Yes. You-You la-like it?"

Dick eyed the suit as if it was his downfall, lips pulled down and arms crossed.

"I did not tell you to make it," Slade opted to answer.

Squirrel smiled in apology, ducking his head the tiniest bit but not answering to the unspoken question, whose idea it had been.

"Try it out, Trigger."

A tiny moment passed before Dick followed the order, frown for a moment replaced by a satisfied smile when his hands closed around the Kevlar. Dick pulled his shirt over his head, exposing the white scar contrasting against his brown skin that had still been a shimmery violet when Dick had proposed the current contract.

"Why did you make the suit?"

"Fra-Frannie. S-s-said she ta...talked to Wi-Wint-tergreen ab-bout you-your new... new addition."

Slade schooled his expression into something more neutral when he recognized Squirrels obvious nervousness.

"And?"

Squirrel shifted under his gaze.

"The-they bo-both thi-think... it would be-be ba-bad shou-should he die-die," Squirrel pressed his lips together and Slade waited, not missing that Dick pretended not to listen to them while he pulled the suit up. One hand grasped the zip over his hips vulnerable skin disappearing behind the black Kevlar. The zip was caught between fingertips at his shoulder blades, the fabric covering his whole neck.

"S-Slade?"

"Hm?"

Squirrel scowled.

"Should he die?" he encouraged.

Squirrel sighed, "On your wa-watch."

Slade made a half huffing, half humming sound and stepped past Dick, who was looking at the new mask, fingers tracing the inside before he raised it to his face.

His own new suit was nothing extraordinary but it had been a while since he had worn something so different. Joining the Light had been the initiator for some unordinary decisions. He did favor resistant cloth to outright armor - this still had some thin promethium plates for further resistance but encased by Nomex fire-resistant, triple-weave Kevlar-lined material. Slade had to say he liked a Kevlar mask more than the cold metal against his face and he had nothing against the lesser amount of orange in this design. The promethium mesh stood out the most, lining over his chest in an array of silver.

Dick flexed his red arm, fingers balling into a fist. The Kevlar was thicker, more resistant and meant to protect from the recoil of a gun. The mask on his face was not too different to the one he had worn the last few months, still hiding more of his face than his usual mask but now the tuft of long hair was spilling over it. Half in the shadows it would look like a normal undercut.

Slade gestured him nearer, exchanging the collars.

"You'll still wear the original during missions with the Light," he informed him, the fastening and loosening of a collar so familiar for Dick by now that he did not freeze to a marble statue under his touch anymore.

Dick tugged at the looser collar, breathing out deeply. His fingers stayed between his skin and the collar for a moment longer, trying to accustom to the difference.

"Did you make the wristbands?" he asked without looking away from Dick and blue eyes pierced through him, still uncovered by the missing white lenses.

Squirrel placed them into his held out hand. They were of the same material as their suits but looked as innocent as sweatbands. He secured them around Dick's wrists all three of them knowing he could have called them handcuffs just as well.

"Any chance we can make them golden?" Dick tried to defuse his own worry.

"Sorry kid but last I checked you weren't a Wonder _Woman_."

"Technicalities," Dick replied, fingers already finding their way to the wristbands, "What are they for?"

"The mission. As well as this," he placed the earring into his palm, tiny jammers glinting like metallic shards, "against cameras and technology enhanced humans."

"The wristbands, Slade."

Squirrel shifted in his periphery at the hard tone and Slade tilted his head, the tension back between them like waiting for a time bomb to go off.

"Watch your tone," Slade reminded and anger crossed over Dick's face but in the end Dick averted his gaze.

"Does everything fit?” he asked after a collecting breath.

"For now," Dick said, careful not to spit the words out as if half chewed.

His gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before he turned and walked to the door of the training room to enter the code, unconcerned if Dick could see or not. As long as they were here, Dick could just as well train whenever he wanted.

He inscribed the protocol for the simulation into the panel, careful not to use his personal stats. It would give Dick too much detailed information about his abilities. Dick watched curiously, all but tugged to his side like some overeager puppy and Slade reached around him to reach the second console, capturing him in the small space between the panel and his body. Dick straightened, back brushing against his chest.

His lips quirked into a smile.

"You think you can go against five?" he asked and Dick tilted his head back just enough to look at him.

"Shouldn't you tell me?"

Slade chuckled and wished Squirrel had been late. He pulled back, handing the training's lenses to Dick. There was only so much a blank room with five synthetic training-AIs could simulate. It was yet another invention of Squirrel though Wintergreen and he had helped design it all those years ago.

He closed the door when Dick was in position and activated the one-way mirror to watch. The fight would start slow, nothing for him to see that he did not already know, so he tested his own suit and examined the upgraded lance. Squirrel had done wonderful work as always and like he had expected, it was a relief to feel Kevlar against his skin.

The first AI hit the wall with a bang, system shutting down in defeat and Slade shook his head with a huff. After short contemplation Slade took the twin blades from the stack, deciding now that he had a real suit, Dick also needed real weapons. The knife would not do if they faced the team.

It was far too soon to give them to Dick now but the right time would come. And if Dick decided to stab him instead of the villain Slade had in mind, it would still be enough. Slade was ready for baby steps.

He exchanged the original collar with a replica, Dick would not know the difference when wearing it a few weeks from now, did not need to know that this version of the sturdy heavy collar could not be controlled by the Light and held no explosives.

"He-he i-is good," Squirrel blurted out, eyes wide and mouth agape as if Dick was something he had never seen before. Slade followed his gaze, watched Dick use his acrobatic skills to an extent he had not seen in a long time and the daredevil smile on his lips was filled with a lust to fight Slade had not seen since Dick was with him.

"He makes you nervous."

Squirrel nodded, kneading his hands. He had always been hard on himself, had always thought his difficulties made him undeserving. New people always induced stress.

"He-he i-is so," Squirrels voice died when Dick was in the air, gripping the heads of the dummies and hitting them together while his legs were spread in one perfect line, using the power to pull together in the next moment, hands reaching for the floor again so his feet crashed into the shoulders and Dick landed crouched, smirk on his face, partially hidden by the hair in his face. He stood straight again, muscles rippling under the costume as he stayed alert.

"Perfect?" Slade asked drily. The boy really was born for the dramatic, inducing an over worldly image where there should be none. He had been surrounded by enough villains and crooks to know some people believed Nightwing could fly or defy gravity.

Squirrel rubbed his neck in apology.

Maybe he should invite Frannie, she was probably the only one expect Wintergreen who was immune to Dick's charm, though Slade did not want to face the consequences if he was wrong.

"You did not include volatile promethium in his suit, did you?"

"Fra-Frannie thought it might be wise to-to tri-trig-ger a hidden me-meta-g-gene."

"If he has one," Slade responded, "He is too valuable. A mutation would be an unbelievable problem."

Slade had to admit though, that it was an attractive idea. The Light had secured one of the meta-gene chambers the Reach had used to experiment and there were no known side-effects.

"It-it would have be-been in the stre-hengthened red. Wi-wintergreen said that as we-well,” Squirrel trailed off, waiting a second before deciding to ask, “Who-who-who is he?"

"A chess piece."

"On-on which-which board?"

Slade focused his attention on Squirrel for a short intense second.

"I don't know."

"But-but you-you,” Squirrel bit his lip before trying again, “You know he counts."

Slade did not answer, watched Dick sweep the last target off his feet, determination in his eyes. It suited him far better than exhaustion.

Dick stepped out again, breath harsher but smile brighter and Slade could feel the expression pull at his heart.

"You really did a good job."

Squirrel turned beet red at the praise and Slade held back a sigh.

Dick was right though. The suit was good, better than Dick's current one who had just been a prototype for a suit Joey and Grant could have worn.

He unfastened the handcuffs and the collar so Dick could undress again. It would take another test if the wristbands could be worn under the Kevlar without growing uncomfortable or not. Dick picked up the clothes laid out for him, more comfortable than the clothes he had worn for the last one and a half days. They were the only change of clothes he had left for Dick. Wintergreen had left the house with Rose before Slade had changed their flight to Chicago.

Dick stepped back towards him. And just as instinctive as Dick craned his neck, expecting the collar, Slade reached out for his throat before redirecting his hand to his shoulder in the last moment. Squirrel frowned in his periphery.

"You need to accustom to the wristbands," he told him and Dick nodded, embarrassment clear on his face for a short moment, "Any changes you need?"

Dick searched his face, uncertainty creeping into his gaze and he could hear Dick's thoughts running, wondering why it should matter. Why it was important even though Dick would only be with him for a few more months.

"No, as I said it's good work."

Squirrel smiled and Dick quirked his head, winking.

"Thank Wintergreen and Slade's stepmother for me."

"S-Sure," Squirrel blurred out in surprise.

In all honesty Slade could have stopped Squirrel from confirming the assumption or he could have slammed Dick against the wall with murder in his eyes, a threat spilling past his lips. Instead he left Dick the small victory.

"I transferred the money," Slade said, hand pressing down on Dick's shoulder and grip hardening, a sure sign that the fun was over, "I'll contact you."

Squirrel nodded, understanding that this had not been a social call from the very beginning. It never was with him but Squirrel was one of the people, he would call friends if people like him had friends.

They followed him out and Dick watched him leave; only taking his eyes off the elevator when the ground floor blinked up in bright red letters.

"I wondered if he might be your brother but he does not look at all like him. Who is he?"

Slade raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't traumatize him, did you?"

Slade rolled his eyes.

"I am not responsible for his speech impediment."

Dick frowned, played with his wristbands and Slade sipped on the second coffee. His body regulated everything, so he did not really need it but he actually liked the bitter taste of black coffee and the smell of freshly brewed one.

"Did you take on a contract for him?"

He sighed into his coffee.

"Why is it so important to you?"

"I'm trying to keep up a conversation."

Bullshit.

"Then you should ask different questions."

It was Dick's turn to sigh, hand brushing over his face.

"Did you ever let them meet Rose?” Dick asked, fingers finding the left wristband.

Yeah, not the kind of different question Slade had had in mind.

"Why not?"

Yes, why not? Because Frannie and Squirrel would tell him how wrong he was and he could barely keep his opinion with both Wintergreen and Dick constantly reminding him. And Adeline of course, always Adeline.

"How many more questions do you want to ask today?"

"You are answering most of them for once. So a lot more."

"Answering? What do you think would have happened if Squirrel had not come? That I'd answered you?"

"Who knows? The last time you held me by the throat I won."

Partially, Slade had to admit but his plan had always been to give Rose the serum at sixteen, the age at which he had joined the army. But Slade knew it would not have ended with a few bruises around Dick's throat this time.

No, he would have gripped him by the back of his neck, pushed their lips together so he could take. Maybe it would have made Dick angrier and maybe Dick was more like Adeline in that regard than he might think. Maybe they would have fucked on the floor with their pure anger at the tip of their tongues while some of the pictures lay broken on the ground.

And all that because of one meddling woman trying to answer one question.

"She was targeted by the same man who was responsible for Joey's kidnapping."

Dick's smile made way for confusion, "Who?"

"Lilian."

Saying her name had never been common and the last time he had been confronted about the events like this was years ago by Pheakdei. Her name was a weight on his tongue, reminding him about his mistakes just as much as Grant.

And Dick saw, of course he saw, trained to realize such emotions miles away.

“Slade,” Dick started and never spoke on, fingers twitching to reach out for his hand but not daring and, with his eyes so blue they could hold the sorrows of the world and all its anger at once, it was the most sincere 'I am sorry' Slade had ever heard.

It was enough to make him feel the tingle of pain in his chest, like water puncturing the angry flames of his never-ending anger and resentment. Wade had tried and failed to take everything from him and he had died for it but it had not resolved the real problems.

"I have seen a lot more people die."

It was meant as a statement but the reminder just made him sound older and world-weary to his own ears.

"Doesn't make it easier to lose someone you care about."

It did not. Slade actually believed it made it worse at some point. There was only so much loss a human could take.

"Maybe," Slade relented. Dick's eyes softened a tiny fraction more, making it unbearable to look at him.

"Either way, it was a long time ago," he followed up, toying with the remote control of Dick's wristbands. It was enough deflection to change the topic, for Dick to take a step back with his conflicting feelings playing out on his face.

Slade let the control slip into his back pocket again, walking past Dick into the bedroom. He would show him the functions but after Dick trying to gather information for the better half of the day, Slade would mess with him for a bit

Slade picked his phone from the cupboard, had left it in front of the picture with Frannie as if to keep Dick away from it. How pathetic.

Dick was glaring at him with crossed arms as if with Squirrel gone and another issue solved they were just back to the beginning again.

"Yes?" he drawled, hand close to the remote control.

"What are they for?" Dick asked again, raising his arms in a wide gesture and showing his wrists when he took a step nearer. "I don't have any desire to feel electricity course through my veins." 

Dick's heartbeat skipped, speaking about his worry making it all too apparent. His thumb hovered over the button regardless.

“What do you think?”

Dick growled in anger, taking another step forward and Slade activated them, magnets pulling his wrists together, powerful muscles in his arms jumping when Dick reflexively tried to fight the power. Before the glare could even rise to his face, Dick was forced down, one foot bracing against the floor before he could be forced onto both knees.

Gravity manipulation was a blessing.

“Why this function?” Dick asked with barely hidden resentment.

"Easier to keep you in a hotel room,“ Slade replied, letting the tiniest bit of amusement into his voice as he stepped nearer to the kneeling hero, "The cuffs might not be easy to highjack but they are less secure compared to the collars. We will be in the resort for a couple of days; long enough to find a way to manipulate them should someone want to. Being electrocuted leaves you more vulnerable. You should still be able to fight like this.”

Dick answered with a kick to his chest. How he found enough power for the quick motion and the handstand was beyond Slade but he sidestepped and caught his ankle. The gravity was deactivated as he threw Dick across the room, not wanting to injure his arms. Dick twisted, rolled to his knees on the bed, ready to attack again but too slow. The handcuffs activated again.

“Is there some hidden message in this?” Dick asked, chin raised and expression calculating. It did not match the daredevil behavior Nightwing showed so often when fighting on rooftops but the words were his.

Slade raised an eyebrow, watched the muscles in his arms tense as he stepped closer.

"Do you want there to be one?" he asked, gripping him by the long strands of his hair in a none too gentle gesture, forcing his head back. It was nothing compared to the feeling of gripping a whole handful of black soft hair. Certainly not a hairstyle meant to stay if he got any say in it. And he would as long as Dick was his.

Dick controlled his reaction well, gave him a nearly perfect "As if"-look but even annoyingly half-lidded eyes could not hide the minimal shift of his thighs and Slade’s gaze dropped between his legs, making Dick even more self-conscious.

Dick had been walking, talking temptation for a while now, not just an attractive young man. His desire was turning into a real distraction.

“Not going to answer?” 

Dick swallowed. 

"What's there to answer?" his voice was so tight, Slade was impressed that the short question even left his lips.

The thundering heartbeat filled his ears, thrummed against his fingertips when he settled his hand over his chest. The blue eyes could not hide the conflict raging behind them. And Slade could not use him now, even though he wanted to because he still needed him, preferably in a better condition and certainly not a worse. And that was the inherent problem. He knew how to break and rebuilt but mending was another matter.

Slade let go and deactivated the handcuffs when he had already turned his back to him. He needed to refocus on the actual mission instead of the young man on his bed.

He picked up the bag of weapons, placing them into their holders before deciding which would accompany him to the event, choosing more subtle weapons. 

Slade opened the veranda door to let fresh air in, opting for a glass of cold water with a dash of citrus instead of coffee. It was growing warmer, spring coming to a rapid end. With a last check of the fridge, he returned to the bedroom.

Dick was lying face down on his bed, pillow grasped between his arms. His shirt had ridden up, exposing the small of his back and the loose pants were not enough to conceal Dick's exquisite backside.

Slade took a breath and Dick peaked up, gaze unsure and turning more alert when he advanced to the bed again but he only placed a glass of water on the nightstand. It did not sit right with him how close Dick was to the door. He had never grown out of the habit to position his own person strategically in the room and in this case he was still prepared to take a knife in the back rather than the person sleeping by his side. But Dick was a hero and they were off the battlefield.

Dick kept watching when he started to hide two daggers and a gun on his body with straps in strategically hidden holsters. The last weapon was one of his lances, this specific one hollow for the most part and he pushed it together until it looked more like one of Dick’s Escrima, hiding it on his arm for easy access. It was a shame he could not carry a sword.

Then he began to search for the right clothes to wear. As a veteran he was supposed to appear in formal military clothes but after years out of the army and working as a mercenary, he had a few uniforms that had never belonged to him legally and he did not need to accidentally appear in the wrong suit.

He brushed the uniform down and checked his reflection in the mirror, making sure the weapons were hidden even from a trained eye and not limiting his movement before turning back to the bed.

Dick's breathing had started to even out, so it was no surprise to him when he turned back to find the young man asleep.

Despite all the resentment Dick had shown over the day, he did not wake up when Slade settled onto the mattress, only his eyelids twitched. Slade had completely forgotten how tired Dick had been. He brushed through the short soft hair on the nape of his neck, nails scraping over the skin and Dick sighed into the pillow, tense grip on the pillow loosening.

"Dick."

Dick pressed his face further into the pillow before turning around to settle in a sitting position, brushing hair sticking to his face out of the way. Their fingertips brushed together when Slade pulled his hand away, making him want to reach out again.

"I will be gone for a few hours."

The blue eyes swept over his formal clothes, Dick sucking on his teeth.

“Why aren’t you going as Deathstroke? Some vendetta?”

“No. I have an official invitation as a veteran."

It seemed to put Dick at ease even if only for the slightest bit and Slade squeezed his thigh, not missing the sharp inhale of breath.

"Behave while I'm gone."

His voice nearly dropped on its own.

“Yes, sir, ” Dick said, mock saluting, lips curled into a bitter smile.

“Your humor will kill you one day,” Slade told him and Dick snorted.

“No," Dick replied clipped, "It’s what's keeping me alive.”

Slade had a hard time to decide if he should give him a slap or a hug for the statement. The urge to remind him to keep his posture was strong but the urge to take the easy way out just as much. Dick averted his eyes, jaw working and Slade sighed, contemplating his words before he spoke up again.

"Do you remember what I told you after you came back from your solo mission?"

Slade was sure Dick could. Was sure those words had been said to him before and if he was wrong then Dick had at the least said them to Batman for a long time.

"You can't save them all," Dick replied and Slade could see in his eyes that he knew, had always known, but it grew harder to accept every time. Slade had learned that. He might not have joined the army to be a hero but he had not joined to become a killing machine either.

"I am fine," Dick tried to convince him but could not look at him, lips drifting into a frown while he stared past him at the windows. The sun made his eyes water again; at least it was what Dick would tell him if he asked, so Slade did not.

"You should use the time alone for whatever you need."

"For whatever--” the brilliant blue thrilled into him, “What do you mean?"

“There are grabbling hooks in the gadget room."

The doubt and the sliver of hope in his eyes made Slade speak on.

"The wristbands allow you more freedom. And we made a deal in Cambodia. Use the black suit though."

His eyes widened.

"You mean--"

"What else would I mean?"

Dick blinked at him a tentative smile pulling on his lips and hand twitching at his side. The dyed hair tickled his throat when Dick dropped his head onto his shoulder.

“Thank you,” Dick whispered relieved and his hands held onto the blanket in a white-knuckled grip so he would not reach out.

“No problem,” Slade responded, rubbing small circles into the skin of Dick’s thigh. His thumb so close to his groin, that Slade could feel the heat pool through the fabric.

Dick turned his head enough to look at him, one eye hidden by the long strands of hair. The genuine happiness was gone, eyes intent on him. Warm breath brushed against his jaw with every exhale.

Ary had been supposed to quench what he had thought was sexual frustration, the same way he had searched out Vigilante after three weeks of missions without Dick. It had been foolish to think everything had stayed the same between them and Dick was here not halfway across the globe.

He pulled his fingers back, reminding himself how last time had ended, but Dick caught his arm before he could stand up. The coral red lips parted and they stared at each other.

Dick let out a breath, gaze flickering away. The grip around his arm grew stronger. A lick over lips, a swallow.

"Be careful."

Slade could not help but let the chuckle escape, watching Dick lower his head.

"I will," he spoke against his ear, his head dipping forward on its own and the hair on Dick's neck rose. So close he could smell the shampoo he had used, how much Dick smelled like him.

Slade heard the intake of breath before Dick had even formed the words in his mind and brushed his lips over his jaw to the corner of his mouth in time to make air catch in his throat, rendering him silent.

Slade lingered, waited because he could not pull away and Dick tilted his head and brushed their lips together, gaze filled with the kind of vulnerability that was far too dangerous to show to an enemy.

Slade pulled him nearer and Dick did not need more encouragement. Hands buried in his hair and a tongue slid into his mouth, making him growl against Dick's lips. A soft sound escaped the hero as they pressed closer, long legs pulling under the athletic body to slide into his lab.

His hand explored the scar on Dick's back, other hand rubbing his thigh in an attempt to keep his hand away from the half-hard cock between the strong thighs.

The kiss belonged to Dick for once and the exerted dominance made Slade chuckle into the kiss.

"You should go," Dick rasped out, warm air of harsh breath hitting his lips and Slade nipped on Dick's. Fingers curled over his shoulders and their cheeks brushed together before Slade dipped down to trail kisses over his throat. Slade was inclined to miss the first hour of unsavory soliciting to pound Dick into the mattress instead. The thought was evidence, that he should not go but actually needed to.

"Don't worry," he mumbled against the soft skin, working a bruise into the easily damageable flesh of his throat with sharp little nips. Dick twitched in his embrace, breath hitching and he kissed the red lips again, this time not leaving Dick the satisfaction to control the kiss.

"Don't forget to eat before you go to bed,” he mumbled, rubbing over Dick's side, following the muscles with his fingers. 

Dick nodded, his hands fists on his shoulders and breath still halting as if he expected them to continue. Slade only just contained his smile, framing a tanned cheek with a contrasting white hand. This was it, he had him on the hook and when he was back they had quite enough time to rebuild instead of mend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the next chapter, I just don't have a clue. To be true to you, the next chapter was part of this. It should not take over a month this time. And after that, Slade and Dick will finally have relief from this long long UST phase. ;P
> 
> And someone please tell me if the short "F*ck you, Slade"-phase Dick had, came out of the blue because currently my brain is too fried to know how to write.


	26. War (Crimes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a long time but finally I got this chapter out of the way, it was a pain in the ass, really. I just didn't have the time or the mind to write in the last weeks or by now months. I was back in my city for longer than usual after working abroad for a while so friends and family were a bit more demanding of my time. But enough of that. The chapter might be short in comparison to the others but I can promise you the next will be longer! And I just want to say, I have not given up on this story. It won't be quit. It might take longer than I expect it to but it's my baby and it still feels good to write it and I still like where I am going with this.
> 
> Thank you for all the love this story received since the last update. You all make it extra worthwhile to write it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Warning: Extensive Bloodshed

The door fell closed behind him and he leaned against the expensive wood, listening to the breathing on the other side. His cock was hard underneath the uniform. How could he not be aroused by the young man in his bed?

The question brought back unbitten memories of those deep blue eyes, looking so unsure, making Dick seem so delicate. And for a moment he cursed himself for his insistence to stop.

He breathed through after another moment, concentrating. Sometimes controlling every function of his body was just another ability that left a bad taste in his mouth (because he was never sure if his unconscious thoughts were untouched by the serum, unadulterated by his calculating nature) but in situations like these Slade was thankful. He checked himself in the mirror one last time before he left the suite to get this half-personal-half-business meeting over with.

His first stop was not his car though. Their departure tomorrow would have to go smoothly, Dick would be David Finlay as soon as he stepped out of the elevator and everything had to go as planned but the night would be very very long if he had his way (and he would), so preparations were in order.

"Sir," both receptionists stood a bit straighter when they noticed him. The foyer was devoid of people but Slade knew new arrivals would start swarming in just an hour later. He had watched the guests arrive more than once from his place on the balcony. Fancy cars littering the streets.

He lay down a shopping list in front of his employees.

"I need this done until three o'clock tomorrow," he stated. The nod was immediate. They did not question the request; the hotel was sworn to a special kind of secrecy. Every guest had secrets here, some more dangerous than others. "Is that doable, Miss Sugiyama? Mister Guerra?"

Two pairs of brown eyes - that could not have been more different - flickered down to the paper before Sugiyama nodded confidently, a smile on her face. She had a utilitarian fashion sense but her hair was often styled extravagantly, giving her a presence that focused the attention of guests at the reception even without a sign.

"It's as good as done."

"Good", he stated, "I'll make sure you will be repaid adequately."

"We know you won't disappoint, sir," Guerra laughed and shifted to reach for the paper, letting it slip into his pocket. He always looked put together, Slade had never seen him without at least a shirt.

He knew they would find the right things for Dick to wear and with their shift ending soon, they would have enough time until tomorrow. Over the past years of their employment, he had never found fault in their work.

While he had played with the idea to disappear out of Chicago for a long time now, the hotel still belonged to him. He had been in this area long before he had ever even imagined seeing such a luxurious hotel built. In times like these when he needed secrecy and got it without having to scare someone beforehand, he knew, he would be missing this location the most.

The drive to the secret military base was no origin for problems, the rush hour was over and with an official invitation, the guards let him in without any suspicion. His phone blinked with the notification, that Dick had left the apartment when he stepped out of the car. A smile pulled on his lips but he stopped it from spreading, focusing on the man already waiting for him.

"It is good to see you, Slade."

A flash of pearl white teeth. Slade had expected to see some gold.

"Gregory," he put more joy behind the name than he had ever felt, "it is good to see you as well. How long has it been?"

"Only five years. Not long for us, I would say."

Not long enough, Gregory was right. After being perceived as a failure after the serum had not shown its effect Slade had expected and wished to never see him again. Then the effect had set in and after not caring who knew Slade Wilson and Deathstroke were one and the same, Gregory had tried to slither back into his life.

To see one of his old superiors never failed to surprise him. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he could hardly see those long years but Gregory had grown old, muscles barely apparent under the thin white flesh. He had passed seventy but looked eighty. Maybe because failure after failure had made him age fast with worry and frustration. The brown eyes glanced behind him as if expecting a shadow to emerge out of the dark. Slade did not show that he noticed but on the inside, he was bristling, a spark of anger trying to ignite a flame.

“Without your new partner?”

"You have known me long enough to forgo the question. I don't have partners," he responded with a quirk of lips and it was the truth. Dick would never be his partner. Never be his equal.

A laugh emerged between thin lips, wickedness shining in brown eyes. Maybe it was the thought of someone walking into certain demise or the glimpsed possibility to use a newly emerged killer for his own good should he survive. Slade did not care enough to decipher the look. Gregory would find his end tonight one way or the other. It sent a smile of satisfaction to his lips he did not have to mask, Gregory misinterpreting it as a reaction to his amusement.

The tavern was filled with guests, Slade one of the fashionably late though his lateness was Dick's fault alone.

"Looking good, Colonel," a women's voice resounded behind him and he turned to look at a familiar face. One of the few brown faces in a sea of old white males and the only woman of color. He could hear Waller's gagging noise from a mile away.

Patricia Gutierrez Ortega had aged well, silver strands pulling through strong black hair and her eyes still shone with the same determination as they had years ago on the battlefield.

"Thank you, madam. I can only return the compliment."

He took the champagner from the waiter, handing her a glass and she smirked.

"My, don't fall in love now, Wilson. You couldn't handle me on your best days."

Her eyes were glinting with amusement and he huffed.

They had never pretended to be close but they had respected each other and above all else, they were closer than they were to Gregory. Gregory had never hidden his racism even when she had been in their squadron and his misogyny had not made things better. The eighties had been tough for him, for a lot of men, which had fought against losing their superiority.

"Don't worry, Gutierrez Ortega, I'm staying in my lane tonight."

It was her time to huff and he smiled, knowing she would only stay for the formalities before disappearing again. It was surprising to see her here at all. She was a political advisor and while everyone assumed who she worked for and believed to be right, no one knew for sure.

They settled into their seats, opting to watch from the sidelines and setting their targets before mingling with different guests on their own. Wearing his old uniform felt like useless pea cocking but he was here to be a wolf in sheep clothing until it was far too late.

Gregory had been obsessed with the Serum project since he had woken up after the shot through his head but by then the Professor had taken the formula to his grave. He had fallen into a coma after taking it and when waking unchanged three years later with twenty-two, the project had been perceived as a failure.

Slade spoke with a few old comrades, finding it hard to relate to a lot of mindsets by now. As someone who fought with heroes and villainous organizations the enthusiasm for war but also the hate against it evaded him. War had always been a double-edged sword and while he understood why no one liked to confront that fact, it did not make them less foolish. He could still remember a time when they had sat on the muddy ground, soaked to the bones and a hard grip around their firearms waiting to take a shot even though deep down they thought it was pointless. Now they talked as if it had felt glorious.

Countries had committed more crimes against humanity than anyone wanted to admit because they were still more interested in borders and power than anything else. The irony, that even heroes had their own borders never got lost to him. It was one reason why he liked to mock them on their life choices. He wondered if Dick was uncomfortable running over the rooftops in Chicago. If he felt like a lone soldier in ally territory, unauthorized.

The travel bans became a heated topic fast and Slade knew which stance he would have taken years ago. Now he knew, believes had no border and they did not care for bans at all. There was always a way, he had pathed some of them in his line of work often enough.

After the formalities champagne was exchanged for wine and they took their seats, Gregory beginning his speech. An update of the project with a lot of lies if Waller's information was true. His phone blinked up when Gregory was starting to come to a pompous end, celebrating a breakthrough Slade did not believe in.

The second hour had just begun, Slade had not thought Dick would return so soon. He hoped it was enough for Dick to get his head back into the game as much as he knew it would not be. Patricia raised an eyebrow, eyes flickering down to the screen, and Slade let his smile fall back into a smirk.

As he had thought she made her get away after dinner and they shook hands, Slade feeling the paper between their palms.

"I'll see what I can do," replied, pushing the paper into his breast pocket and sending her on her way with a goodbye. Maybe he could start to draw his own conclusions about her place in the world soon enough.

In the end only a representative of the current government, a billionaire with bodyguards, who was the fifth investor, - an easily impressible too rich white kid - and five lab assistants remained. The representative was scowling in a peculiar childish show of distaste and if it had not been such an unprofessional behavior, he would have sympathized. The man was a contrast to the gangly just-out-of-his-teens billionaire. His parents had died in a car crash, an accident the report had said but the way his eyes swept through the rooms in obvious interest rubbed Slade the wrong way. Sure, every single one of the investors had hoped for an army of superhuman soldiers but something told him the teen was out to get the serum for his own use on his own body.

Slade sighed in the privacy of his head and focused back on Gregory, who had started talking a while ago. He praised the security measures but Slade was hardly impressed. It was always amusing to realize how much more secure some simple safe houses were than the average military base.

As enhanced with technology as the guards were, that lined the floor, they would not stand a chance without it. The bodyguards were his concern, non-meta-humans were a rarity these days as well as pushovers if they really were non-meta-human.

When they finally stepped into the laboratory, Slade was not surprised to see a lot of subjects tied to machines monitoring their comatose bodies. The letters in front of their code numbers betrayed the difference between them. While the comatose only had an 'S' in front of their number, the others were labeled as 'B' and 'BS'. It did not take a genius to realize what those letters meant.

"So you injected my blood and the serum into them?”

It was the inactivated blood before Adeline had shot him. Slade had made sure nothing else would get into Gregory's hands. His blood was his, the serum was his.

Gregory nodded with a self-satisfied smile as if he was the constructor of a very clever system he had expected the right person to crack.

“Yes and only the mixture of both the blood and the serum brought us nearer to our goal but you see, they did only cope with it to various degrees.”

And see he could. Remember as well. To think so much his head had not stopped hurting, his eyes seeing color never there before, feeling the cells of his body react to his thoughts and hearing more and more and more.

He blinked.

“Why?”

“We don’t know. They did not seem to gain abilities, only survived. It's doing something but not the right thing. It might stimulate the brain but not the areas we need it to, or so our scientists say,” Gregory looked at one of the doctors beside him, who nodded.

Slade frowned, despite knowing Gregory had lied when they had still been in the barrack now ten meters over them above ground; he had hoped they had actual results or at least a plan in the right direction instead of still searching in the dark. He would have to study the serum himself then. He had the last bit of original serum after all; the Professor had given it to him after his first comatose stage.

“What about those who were injected with the serum alone?”

“We haven’t been able to recreate it," the doctor answered, "Some of them have been in a coma for far longer than you were.”

“A shame,” he voiced, keeping an eye on the scowling government agent. The man was not impressed and even less so considering he was ignored in favor of the man they were undeniably trying to get out of the way. Slade was not stupid, the first success would be sent out to kill him.

“Weren’t you the one so against it?” asked Gregory.

“I need it for my daughter,” he answered dryly.

"This is a government project, Mister Wilson," the representative spoke up, eyes narrowed and Slade smirked.

"So am I."

A huff before the man turned to Gregory.

"We need results. So it would be a good idea to finally ask Mister Wilson for the thing he was invited to this event."

Slade could see the bodyguards shift out of the corner of his eye but he reacted faster than any of them could. If they had thought he would amuse them and wait until they asked for his blood, he was going to surprise them quite a bit. Not that everyone had time to be surprised.

It was a clean head shot, through two heads. He liked it when they aligned. The two crumbled together, uniform and suit tinting with red. A lab assistant stared at him with wide eyes, blood speckling her face. She would have to wait, the bodyguards betraying their cause were already beside him.

The bodyguards moved in tandem, giving the assistants enough time to activate the emergency control. Slade had no problem with a few lasers setting their focus on him.

The lance was drawn while the bodyguards hid not in cowardice but in an attempt to win the upper hand. The strengthened metal redirected the laser into the opposite wall. And he smiled. Squirrel had outdone himself again and he flexed the lance, starting to clean out the nest with waves of soldiers trickling in.

His blood rushed through his bloodstream, the serum dancing in his body and he felt the tiniest spark of blood lust erupt before he reigned his emotions in again, leaving the mask of a professional killer intact as he speared the first bodyguard with a strike of his lance.

It was a blur of red and white and black. Without Dick he let go, not stopping once for a merciful attack.

He slid through the security until he was tinted red, breathing out to calm down just enough from the adrenaline rush, to think straight.

The second bodyguard lurked in the shadows the artificial light created. Slade whirled the lance around blood flying against the white wall in a dripping arc. The subjects not already taken out by the crossfire watched with haunted eyes. Slade had no idea what Waller wanted to do with them but he knew they would not be burned with the building.

Someone was screaming, banging against the glass but Slade had no mind to care while he waited for the inevitable attack.

The man was silent but not silent enough and glass mirrored, Slade pushed the lance back, peak just so nicking the hardening skin of the bodyguard and the man felt safe, indestructible. How wrong he was. Everything could break. Lightning zipped through the meta-human, a nick enough to surge over his body, to destroy the hardened skin until it fell off his flesh like dry cracked desert earth.

He felt no pleasure when he came to the final strike but calmness, a satisfaction others would have called just as sick. For Slade it was a job well done. And for a moment he stood still, calming with the silence before stepping through glass shards towards the one thing Gregory had not wanted him to have.

His eyes flickered to the face of the lab assistant he had faced before, her blond hair was in disarray and she was half covered by a guard who had tried his best to protect her. If her eyes had been a shade darker, they would have looked like Dick's.

Slade turned away, holding Gregory's finger in front of the panel to open the small container.

“Let’s see how close you came,” he muttered, holding the viral between his fingertips, the serum reflecting the flickering artificial light into his eye.

In his apartment it was moonlight tinting his light blue eye in a silver color as he watched the figure on his bed. Even now adrenaline was surging through his body, the hormone reacting with the serum, substances fuelling each other in an only slowly transcending circle. He had held back too much in the past months, his body was on a high. And that was dangerous.

A deep breath escaped him, his inner struggle starting to turn into physical strain.

He did not step towards Dick to wake him, did not lay his hands on the skin he had wanted to feel all night. Crusted blood still stuck to his body, enough for Dick to fall right back into his mindset of utter guilt.

Part of him thirsted for the pain in those blue eyes, sought to tear Dick down but the other part, the part which had wanted to do Rose right and which looked at Wintergreen for guidance and at Adeline for love, which had admired Frannie for leaving his abusive father made him leave for a shower instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a lot probably know this but Deadpool was created in a parody to Deathstroke, so I borrowed the simple term The Professor from Deadpool's Weapon X' origin. 
> 
> Because I am currently studying for an exam that will hopefully make me able to enter my preferred university, the next chapter will presumably take about two months to finish. It'll be all about the smut because it's about damn time!


	27. Nighttime Drama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a long time, I know and it is not really October anymore to my sorrow but oh well, here it finally is. I have a feeling I will have to write and re-write every new chapter for this story at least three times. I’m in hell. Help. 
> 
> Thanks for all the inspirational and uplifting comments. I would not still be writing this beast without you. :)

The sky was a clear blue, reflecting in his eyes joined by trees standing tall against the heat of the sun. Silence surrounded him, the silence which boomed in his ears like static.

"I can do what you can't," a voice rung in his head, echoing even when the cries of fear and agony reached his ears. The heat was rising around him and he could taste smoke on his tongue.

"I can cut him," the voice had lost its otherworldly edge, now nothing but a hiss against his ear. Dick could feel the soft hair tickle his jaw, looking into his own eyes when his attacker rose again. The heaviness over his pelvis was the weight of his own body.

"Maybe I can kill him."

The smile twisting his lips was deranged and Dick opened his mouth, tasted the blood on his tongue, felt the wetness of his throat where the knife had cut through his skin.

"You're weak. You’ve always been. First hiding behind Bruce. Then hiding behind Kaldur."

Dick reached out; wound a hand around the other's throat and the grin widened. His other hand rose as well. They were heavy as lead, just as the rest of his body but somehow he pressed him back, blood dripping down on his face when Dick reversed their position.

"I'm not."

His voice was pure anger, ripping through the background noise and forcing it to grow louder.

"I've always made my decisions. And I know how to live with them."

The other chuckled, a high sound so familiar to Dick he squeezed the fragile throat harder and the other spoke even as his eyes rolled back, lips growing slack.

"But can you die with them?"

The words were a mere whisper and he flinched away, the grin burning into his sight. His hand rose to his throat, swimming vision growing worse and he stumbled up but his legs grew weak again.

His hands hit the dark water, the droplets splashing against him and he took a rattling breath in. Hands framed his face and he recognized the familiar sorrowful eyes despite the world tilting. Tears trailed down brown cheeks. He had never seen her cry.

"My Robin, my little Robin."

The touch was like a ghost’s, unable to hold him. The ripples he created with his fall were slow and his mother kept kneeling, looking at a face only she could see. She was crying but he could give no comfort. His lips did not move, blood flowing out between them. His fingers twitched when she turned to join the others, his family, all those that had fallen that fateful night.

And they disappeared slowly with the light and the warmth. He slipped more and more, water enveloping him.

He blinked in the darkness, watched the moon paint a small line of light onto the ceiling. The numbness he had felt was not washed away with the dream. A sigh escaped his lips and he curled together, eyebrows drawing into a frown.

"You're not Bruce," Dick spoke in a whisper, "You're not the Bat. You can let it go. Things happen."

He took a breath.

"You can't save them all."

He brushed through his hair, nails pricking into his skull. He could do this; he could live with his decisions like he had as Robin. Everything would be alright; everything would go back to normal. His lips pressed together.

"Get a grip on yourself, Nightwing."

Clark and Bruce had believed in him when he was far younger, he could believe in himself with twenty-two. He had shouted his anger out, had taken his despair to the rooftops and had cried in the security of tiles and marble. It had helped and he had felt good, going to bed tired and exhausted but with crust over his wounds.

His gaze stayed on the empty space beside him and he sat up, a yawn on his lips. For a moment his bare feet hovered over the ground as if he expected sleep to take him again. When sleep did not come, Dick stepped into the living room.

A flood of relief overcame him when he found the place not as he had left it. The door to the balcony was open, curtain swaying with the wind and he smiled at the sound of the running shower. Light pooled out underneath the bathroom door.

Dick shook his head, trying to remind himself who had brought him into this situation in the first place. All it brought him were disconnected images of his dream.

The real event was still successful in forcing his lips down but the rage he had felt for Slade in the moment had passed ever since he had cried against his shoulder. It would have happened without him and while it did not ease the images out of his mind, he knew there was nothing he could have done to prevent the scene from unfolding. What he had seen, was not new to him, sometimes even they could not save what had already been taken. Dick had simply not expected to encounter a mission in such scale, had expected Slade to be mindful.

On silent feet he crossed the room, stepping out onto the balcony. The city was still awake or again, Dick had not cared to look at the clock. His tired eyes stayed on the moving red lights for a moment, falling shut to the sound of horns. The city was alive and well, was thriving even if he was not and somehow it soothed his mind as if he had expected to be swallowed by the darkness once again.

When he turned back from the view, Dick noticed two guns lying on the table, cleaning kit open beside them. The metal was cool against his skin; shape, and weight familiar since his days in the academy. Bullets fell into his hands when he unloaded the first gun and he stared down at the glinting metal, mind empty and so full at the same time. The weapons should make his stomach turn but he had worked with firearms too often to be affected by a single event.

His pragmatic side won this time - a rarity these days - and he settled down, disassembling the weapon.

He did not use his own gun often but cleaning firearms had turned into a task he appreciated much to Bruce' chagrin. After a long day, it was easy to calm down with the simple task and it had something final about it, a reminder that he had gone another day without using his SIG Sauer. Maybe in the future, it would even be something Jason and he could reconnect over if he got the chance to reintroduce himself into his brother’s life someday. He hoped he would, after all, Jason was different since his death but he could tell his brother’s compassion had not died with him.

The gun clicked back together and he brushed his hand through his hair, staring down at the weapon with a frown. He could not recall seeing such a design before, not that he believed anything different but costume made would satisfy someone like Slade. Maybe it was alien? Or something from the government? Whatever it was, Slade would probably not approve of him touching them and he should have thought about that sooner.

"You're always good for a surprise."

Dick twitched, catching his hand before it could rise to his chest.

The mercenary was leaning in the doorway; head tilted against the frame and for a moment Dick could not take his eyes off the unnatural glow the single eye emitted when bathed in moonlight. It was as if the serum shown through, betraying the superhuman powers the muscular body held. His brain seemed to slow down even more when he caught up on what Slade was wearing. The red silky lounge robe cut in a Chinese style with a black collar and belt left his chest exposed, flowing over the rest of his body and mixing his frame with the dark. Bruce liked to wear them too, in black obviously, and he tried his hardest to think about his adopted father but neither his eyes nor his thoughts did stray.

"And," Slade spoke, gaze traveling over his body, "I don't only mean the guns."

His legs tensed when the intense gaze dropped between his thighs.

"I took what I had," he replied, head held high. Dick had known how personal the old army shirt was, the second he had gathered it between his fingers. It had crossed his mind not to take it but exhaustion had won against his worry over a possible reaction. Everything had been good after the rooftops; he had found his inner balance only to lose it again. The out washed color had reminded him of home and the pure existence was evidence of the life Slade had once lived, far away from any thought about mercenaries. It was still killing but not the one he was raised to judge over.

"I'm not complaining."

Dick frowned, fingertips drumming against the metal.

"Not even about the guns?"

Slade chuckled, "You? Sabotaging my guns? Not in this life."

Dick flinched and bit his lip, looking over the brightly light street.

"That's a compliment."

"Is it?" Dick responded and tensed at the anger heating his voice. All chance to get some sleep seemed gone. His tattered thoughts were not quieting down, redirecting but not growing less. It frustrated him greatly.

Slade gave no response and Dick tried his best to remain stubborn, to not give in but in the end, his attention was back on the mercenary.

Something must have shown on his face - maybe longing - because Slade perked up, arms uncrossing and his powerful body pushing from the door frame to lower himself in front of him. Dick kept his gaze trained on his jugular, trying to ignore everything that made him want to fall into Slade's arms. It was a futile attempt. The second Slade reached out, he tilted his cheek into the touch and he squeezed his eyes shut as if his blindness would make his actions less real.

"Come on, Richard," Slade spoke softly. Fingers trailed over his other cheek to brush now blond strands out of his face, leaving tingling trails behind. "You need your sleep."

He had not even heard Slade talk to Rose in such a tone and it made him feel safe, warmed his heart. The tension between his shoulders receded and Slade was there when he leaned forward to hide his face against him.

"You talk as if you care."

A warm hand settled on his neck and the tension left him in an exhale.

"I thought you were doing better," Slade whispered into his hair, fingers drawing circles against his skin. He did not want to talk about it but he knew he would end up telling him anyway.

His chest was tight as he looked up into the single eye. The feeling did not ease when a thumb brushed over his bottom lip. It just twisted into something different but no less stifling. Dick's eyelids lowered, lashes brushing his skin when fingers curled around his bare throat. Slade brushed their noses together and Dick closed his eyes, nails scraping against the underside of his chair. His own breath was loud in his ears. It was the collar around his neck instead of Slade's death bringing hand. And the light pressure felt good in its familiarity, grounded him.

"Just a nightmare," his voice came through clear but there was no downplaying with Slade.

"What was it about?" Slade asked, nearer to his ear again. A shudder descended down his back and Dick bit his lip.

"The mission," Dick said, pressed his nose into the strong shoulder as he stared, unseeing, fingertips digging into the silk. With a sharp breath, he added: "It was different this time."

He swallowed when he saw his mother before his eyes once again, turning away from him while he bled out in the darkness. Strong arms embraced him, pulled him against the warm body he had grown so familiar with. The chair was forgotten as his own arms encircled Slade's neck. He could feel the soft scratch of his beard against his ear. It had felt so real, that he shuddered even in Slade’s grip. The worst thing about the dream was that he was beginning to understand its implications but images were already vanishing, the puzzle breaking apart. The fire, though, was clear. Like a forest fire that was circling him in, hovering at the edge of his vision.

"For all the times you jump right into the action without thinking, you are still a terrible head person," Slade pulled him out of his thoughts and Dick let out a dry laugh, gazing up at him with a wry smirk.

"I used not to be."

Slade hummed, fingers brushing over his short cut hair as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

“That’s true.”

It was still the same soft voice. Dick hated it as much as he loved it.

His fingers curled further into the silky fabric and his lips tingled when the clear gaze dropped down to them. Dick could feel the world zeroing in on him, his skin growing tight. He knew how it would feel to kiss him, how intoxicating it would be but his mind denied him to take the last step.

Slade’s fingers curled behind his ear. The tickling sensation webbed over his scalp and his lips parted, his chest rising visibly. His nose filled with air.

The first soft brush of lips sent sparks flying through his body, hands clawing into whatever of the strong man he could reach. It was the only encouragement Slade needed. A hand on his ass pulled him nearer and the mouth grew more insistent. A shudder overcoming him when he felt Slade’s crotch press against his. He rolled his hips as Slade took his mouth, teeth carving into thin skin.

His flesh throbbed, swelling underneath the thin fabric of his pants.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Slade huffed with a smirk and Dick wound his legs around the muscular body when Slade rose easily with his weight in his arms. One hand brushed under his shirt, nails leaving wells across his skin and Dick strained with the touch.

His back hit the wall, teeth pricked at his throat. Dick gasped at the force. He could feel Slade's arousal much clearer now, the knowledge that he had such an effect on the man indescribable

"Why?" he asked, when Slade pressed kisses to his throat, hand brushing over his stomach up and then down over his covered crotch. A sharp breath escaped him when Slade kneaded the sensitive flesh, making him squirm and twist.

"Because,” Slade started; voice a deep staccato, lips pressing against his ear, “I need you to be in a better condition."

Thumbs dug into the inside of his thighs. A tongue against the shell of his ear made him see stars.

"So, darling,” the words were purred against his skin. They carved between the cracks in his heart, made him break just a little bit. He stared in disbelieve, in shock even.

It was no wonder Slade kissed him the second his gaze found his. Their bodies were so close Dick did not know were Slade ended and he began. His hands searched for purchase against the wall.

“I need you out of your headspace. I need you here with me," was growled against his lips and Dick groaned, his fingers digging into Slade's skull.

"I'm here," was his gasped answer when Slade ground against him and the chuckle vibrated against his skin. Fingers hooked under the thin fabric of his pants. The back of the warm hand brushed against his hardening shaft, knuckles grazing his balls when Slade gathered enough fabric between his legs. His fingers curled around his arm, his self-control barely enough to keep his hips from twitching so he could grind against the bit of friction. The fabric was torn, the air cool against his heated flesh.

"Show-Off," Dick whispered, having to bite back a moan in the next moment when Slade pushed back against him.

"You like it," Slade responded against his lips before pulling him into another kiss full of teeth, a hand on the small of his back.

He was right. Dick loved feeling the twist of the powerful muscles under his fingertips.

The hands traveled up his body, over his sensitive sides to frame his cheeks again. His hands shot up when Slade bit into his lower lip and Dick whimpered, breath cut short for a moment when Slade invaded his mouth. He told himself the dominance did not turn him on but his midsection agreed to disagree.

He breathed in deeply when Slade left him some air, knees weak. His fingers curled around Slade’s shoulders with every hard grind against him. The cuffs adorning his wrists fell into his sight and his lips parted, failing to form words. Somehow Slade still noticed and he grasped his hand, fingers interlacing and stroked over the material just to bring the wrist to his lips.

“Let me leave them on you.”

Dick should say no but the deep honeyed voice made him weak and he knew Slade would bring him pleasure.

Slade pulled away a second time, so far that Dick reached after him out of reflex, stumbling into him. A small laugh escaped the mercenary, a kiss to his head made Dick squeeze his eyes shut again.

Maybe he missed human contact. Maybe that was the reason why he needed Slade so much.

His lips were caught again and his legs rose around Slade when his ass was grabbed by two strong hands.

"That's a yes?" Slade asked, nipping at his lips, catching his answer in his throat and the hot breath between them. Maybe Slade decided his groan was enough, his thighs tightening around him a sign.

The thought of lying helpless and naked under Slade with only the wristbands adorning his wrists was toe-curling arousing even though or because of his fear Slade would do whatever he wanted. They had not been made for sexual play but Dick was sure they would be perceived as such around David's wrists. Why would Slade not use them then?

His back hit the mattress and he closed his eyes, felt the heat of Slade disappear when the curtains were drawn. For a second he kept quiet, listened to the thundering of his own heart and his quickened breathing.

Then Slade was back, brushing a hand underneath his shirt and Dick shuddered at the touch.

Slade was looking down upon him, short white strands caressing his face and Dick groaned into the lazy kiss settled onto his lips, breath shaking and back arching into the touch when Slade trailed soft kisses down his chest.

"Slade."

Even breathy the name rung load in the silence.

"Yes?"

Dick took a centering breath when the soft lips left his skin. The impossible light blue focused on him. He wanted to reach out towards the hovering mercenary but he was too afraid it would turn out like last time, Slade discarding him the second he was satisfied. This time he would shatter like some poorly glued glass.

"We should sleep."

A hum, as Slade dragged his gaze away from his skin up to his eyes. Dick swallowed at the intensity, licked his lips. The hand on his hip was burning into his skin. He had wished for Slade to return so much, had clawed into him given the opportunity.

"We should," Slade agreed, "It'll be a long day tomorrow."

Neither of them moved and his chest clenched, his teeth carving into his bottom lip. Slade kept on watching, caressing. Words were on the brink of spilling from his lips. Hold me, just one of many phrases Slade would use to tear him apart. Maybe not now but later.

Fingertips trailed down his thigh, finding interest in the old scar. Dick could remember the injury but the pain could not be further away than in this moment.

"Slade, you," he trailed off when the fingers ventured dangerously close to his groin.

"Yes?" Slade asked again, hand leaving his thigh and settling down beside his hip.

Dick bit his lip and averted his gaze. He expected the sound of a familiar quiet laugh. A hand on his skin and a whisper at his ear coaxing him back to blissful arousal. Instead, Slade pulled away and Dick cursed in his head when that did not feel right either. He tried to stomp the feeling when his name tried to leave his lips once again because somehow nothing seemed right but reaching out for him.

Slade was not surprised by the strong grip around his forearm nor was Dick shocked to feel lips against his once again after a moment of drowning in the damning icy blue.

The shirt was discarded smoothly, Slade pressing him back down. Teeth caught at his lips, making him aware of their tenderness. Hands curled around his hips, strong grip bruising. Dick bit back, curled his fingers into the strands of white hair.

His breathing hitched when kisses were settled onto his collarbone down to his chest. His hips bucked when soft lips closed around his nipple, throbbing cock brushing up against the silk and the strong body underneath.

"Fuck," he whimpered when the first teasing touch of a tongue made everything heat up even more and the puffs of Slade's hot breath met his skin when the man laughed.

His fingers curled painfully around the white strands in petty revenge but Slade had him keening again in no time, grip growing slack in pleasure and hips trying to cant up for friction.

Dick's breathing had turned harsh by the time Slade moved lower, kissing his way down to his abdomen. His chest prickled, itching from the attention and his cock twitched the nearer Slade got. The lips trailed down his thigh instead, lips nipping at the burn scar so close to his groin that Dick could feel the tickle of soft hair against his member. The skin was pulled tight and Dick yelped when teeth worried the damaged flesh, hips rising from the bed before Slade pushed him back down, licking and biting the skin.

When Slade was done Dick did not know if the patch of skin or his cock was throbbing with more heat. He swallowed the whimper threatening to escape when Slade pulled back again.

His legs were tugged over Slade's thighs, the hands previously holding his hips trailing down to his knees and Dick could see the outline of the proud cock behind the silk, just in front of his own heated crotch. When his gaze jumped back to Slade's face, his belly twisted with heat at the foreboding calmness in his gaze.

"Turn around, pet."

Dick breathed out shakily, feeling every brush of the fabric against his body too much when he followed the command. The silk was what he felt first when Slade bend over his back like pelting rain before the thunder and his breath hitched when he felt the thick fingers brush between his ass cheeks. He did not realize his own tension until Slade set another kiss on his shoulder, nuzzling against him.

"I want you to be better, Dick. Just relax. Let me help you."

Dick took a breath and slowly resolved the death grip he had on his pillow. He was arching his back just from the tension under his skin and Slade felt his muscles quake when he trailed fingertips down his spine. A thumb drew circles against his smooth hole.

"I want to fuck you, Richard."

Dick could feel the pressure against his hole, could feel his cock twitch against his stomach.

"What are you waiting for?"

His voice trembled with need, his back arching against the touch.

Slade chuckled, kissed the side of his throat, beard skimming over the skin and Dick let out a high sound when fingers circled his balls with a feathery touch. His hand grasped for Slade's trying to turn the tickling into a more satisfying pressure but his hand was caught.

"Slow down, pet."

Dick tried to send him a glare before his eyes widened the second Slade clasped a hand around his neck to keep him down. A shower of warmth run down his spine at the feel of Slade's heated cock against his backside.

"Slade," he moaned, back arching.

The hand squeezed harder around his neck.

"Say it."

Dick swallowed.

"Fuck me," he said, words nearly breaking when the hot cock pushed between his ass cheeks. "Slade, fuck me."

His voice shook with need.

Teeth pricked into the sensitive skin underneath his ear and heat focused at the spot, made him squirm against Slade in a frenzy. "You worry too much."

A thumb stretched the skin of his ass, exposed him to Slade and his breath hitched when a slick finger teased around the edge of his hole in slow circles. Slowly his entrance was preached and Dick tried not to tense when Slade pushed further into his body, finger thicker and longer than his own. It was intimate in a way it had not been before, not even when Slade had prepped him in anger.

The finger crooked against his walls and Dick could feel how careful Slade was, could feel what power was left unused. Slade set a gentle pace, rocked him like the push and pull of the tight and Dick could hear his own labored breathing, could feel Slade note every twitch of a muscle.

Not being able to see Slade had turned into a special kind of torture as if he knew what he could have but would never reach again.

Dick struggled for a moment when the second digit preached his entrance but with the warm lube and the insistent push even the unused muscle opened up. Finally pressed into him, he felt the knuckles graze against his skin and rocked back with a silent groan.

Slade chuckled and Dick could feel Goosebumps erupt on his skin at the deep amused sound.

"So eager already, pet?"

His cock twitched, caged between his body and the bed. There was no quip back at Slade on the tip of his tongue, just a little desperate affirmation.

A thumb brushed over his lips as if Slade knew what he was trying to keep hidden.

Dick groaned when the third finger joined, hands gripping at the blanket. His breath hitched when fingers wiggled inside of him to stretch him further. Pre-cum wet the tip of his cock, made it stick to his stomach with every new desperate twitch.

He sized when Slade brushed over his prostate, a jolt of pleasure going through his body that caught him off guard. His tongue curled with the moan and his body arched. It had been such a long time.

The fingers slipped out of him, hand grasping his rear and Slade brushed over his spine, settled a kiss onto his neck. A condom was ripped open, Slade using his teeth and Dick twisted far enough to watch him roll the condom over his length. Dick swallowed, not because of the length and girth but because of his traitorous thoughts. He had hoped Slade would forgo protection again.

Slade blanketed him, cock brushing between his cheeks and Dick felt breath hit his skin.

"Tell me again, darling."

A tongue licked up his ear, his body arching against Slade when his breath escaped him. Dick had to stop the words spilling from between his lips. He wanted a lot, especially from Slade, especially now. A gasp was forced from him when Slade grabbed his groin, squeezing his balls and pressing the heel of his hand into the base of his cock.

"Fuck me," he whimpered and when the grip loosened, the words rushed out of his lungs, "I want to feel you. I need this."

The confession burned in his eyes but Slade was there again, kissing his neck.

“You’re not the only one.”

Dick swallowed, felt the hard length press up against his stretched hole and then Slade pushed into.

Dick arched, trying to adjust the best way he could until Slade was seated into him, and their bodies flush together. A finger caressed over the stretched muscle and Dick felt the sensation travel up his spine tenfold.

Slade rolled his hips lazily as if testing him, length barely leaving his trembling body. Dick gasped when Slade thumbed his abused nipple, rolled it between his fingers. He clawed into the mattress, mouth open and tiny half-formed gasps escaping. His cock was throbbing, twitching with every spark of arousal. He wanted pressure against it, would be content with the bed instead of Slade's hand if he had to.

Slade was driving him crazy, sweat glistening on his skin. His panting was echoing loudly in his ears.

It was torture.

"Slade," he breathed.

"Yes?"

Dick shivered, feeling the girth grind inside him.

"Wanna come," he mumbled and Slade let go of his nipple, crazing his nails down to his stomach just to grip his cock and Dick groaned, hips twitching into the hand.

"I couldn't have guessed."

Dick arched when Slade squeezed the tip of his cock, two fingers teasing the crown and Dick squirmed helplessly. His cock pulsed in the strong grip and he grunted when his face was pressed into the pillow by a hand in his hair.

"Move your hips."

Dick swallowed, fingers clawing into the mattress but he followed the command. The slide of the thick cock inside him would have been enough to muddle his thoughts but his own cock was sliding through the strong fist as well, pre-cum smeared head brushing against the mattress. The muscles in his thighs were shaking from exertion, Slade holding him too low so he could not kneel entirely. He breathed into the sheets, trying to remain calm, hold a steady thrust and pull. The hand in his hair pulled his head up, forcing him to arch more and he groaned when the pressure against his prostate increased, making his spine flare with warmth.

Slade set a new pace. Slow steady moves out and fast powerful thrust into his body.

"Beautiful," Slade blew the words against his skin and Dick shook, gasped when teeth worried his neck. His hips stuttered and his leaking cock was released from the tight grip. The deep intrusion made his head prickle and his body tensed around Slade when he felt the back of a finger brush up the underside of his cock. His legs trembled, something unlocking in his throat when the tip of a finger finally brushed against the sensitive head.

His body arched in ecstasy and Slade slammed into him with a harsh thrust. He shook with aftershocks, ass clenching around the impressive length and the strong hand around his own pumped him through until he was flaccid in his grip. Dick felt heavy and light at the same time. His breath echoed around the room, Slade's face pressed to his back and only now could Dick feel where Slade had no doubt left bruises. Dick grunted when Slade settled his whole weight on him. He could feel the tremble of the stronger thighs and Dick relaxed further when he realized Slade had come as well.

Their breathing calmed together and for a moment they stayed joined, a hand brushing through his hair. Dick felt his eyes fall shut and then Slade rose, slowly pulling out. The shiver befalling his body was one of exhaustion.

"Don't leave me," he whispered even as he still felt a hand on his rear.

It was silent for another moment then Slade's breath ruffled his ear and a kiss was settled to his temple.

"I won't."

The warmth returned to his back and Slade used his arm to keep him close when he shifted their bodies. Hot kisses were pressed to his neck, to his shoulder and the warm feeling in his chest felt like betrayal.

“Sleep,” Slade breathed, hand brushing over his chest to his throat, “It’s over. No one will hold you responsible for the things you did during your time with me."

He wanted to believe him so he let Slade interlace their fingers and pressed their hands over his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it has been a damn long time since the last smut chapter (December!). A lot has happened between them and this turned out a lot different. I hope my skills do not feel as rusty to you as they do to me.  
> I'm interested to read how you interpret Slade's actions or even non-actions with the knowledge you have and what you think about Dick's state of mind.


	28. Different Directions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I can only thank everyone who left a comment.   
> I love reading about your deductions for future chapters.  
> So without further ado, enjoy the new chapter!

Slade's hand slipped out underneath his own. Any other time in the last few weeks the slight disturbance would not have been enough to wake him but now, it was a reminder that Slade had stayed to give him the comfort he needed. He turned when the mercenary took the pleasant warmth with him, half-lidded eyes saving the image of Slade’s back for his memory.

Soon his breathing was even once again.

When he returned to awareness a second time, his nose was pressed into the soft pillow, his arms embracing it and his body twisted towards the closed oak door.

Dick nuzzled into the soft cushions, nose filling with the spicy aroma of the perfume Slade had worn for the meeting. It tickled his nose when he inhaled. The fragrance was deep, something he would never wear but he liked being surrounded by the smell.

Before he could fall asleep again, he pushed up, having to hold back a surprised hiss when he became aware how sore his ass was from the unused stretch. His fingers twitched to sooth the muscle but Dick ignored the need it in favor of entangled his legs from the thin blanket. He slipped out of the bed on Slade’s side, had migrated towards it during the night.

Without the blanket, the room felt cold to his overheated body despite the warm spring air drafting through the room from a large open window. He had not noticed Slade opening it.

With a sigh at his inattentiveness, he searched for something to wear.

His shirt was nowhere to be found and Dick picked up the robe Slade had worn yesterday with unease. He knew Slade had left it on purpose and his fingers nervously twitched towards his throat, trying to curl around the collar. Obviously, it was not there anymore.

The silk caressed his skin in a familiar touch when the fabric fell around his shoulders and he tied the belt together, trying not to think about the places the silk had touched or hidden from his view. His fingers pushed under the fabric, thumb soothing the itching of his tender nipple before he caught himself, pulling the fabric closer around his chest.

When he stepped outside, Slade was nowhere in sight. The relief he felt was accompanied by a tinge of disappointment. His desire to evade Slade with dried cum, sweat, and lube covering his body was strong but he had hoped Slade would wait for him.

A good night’s rest had revitalized him and the cold water was a blessing when Dick stepped underneath the shower. The lust vanished from the forefront of his mind and his thoughts were clearer than they had been in the last days. Even though he should feel guilty about the way he had archived his peace, the familiar feeling did not take hold of his thoughts.

He took a new lounge robe from the wardrobe. One more fit for a young man like David Finlay, less elegant but not less soft to the touch. He pulled the silk back over his dried and freshly shaven body, glad to see in the mirror, that the silk covered the bruised scar on his thigh. It was held in the style of a boxer robe and Dick left the hood off. Even David did not need that kind of validation when he was not about to be photographed for an Instagram picture.

Walking through the short corridor connecting the bath with the rest of the apartment still felt wrong as if he could expect Alfred turning the corner with a disappointed frown on his face. Over the years he had returned from parties with his fair share of hickeys and the one or two walks of shame after dating Zatanna and Bette. Each time Alfred had scolded him and then shown him how to cover them up professionally.

The smell of brewed coffee reached his nose and his heart clenched when he thought about the early mornings before school when Bruce had time to eat breakfast with him. With a bitter smile, he guessed those were the good old days now.

The breeze skimming through the apartment cooled the water still clinging to his hair and he stepped through the open balcony door towards Slade.

The mercenary was sitting at the table with the newspaper in his hands and the weapons from last night were gone. Slade looked so well put together that Dick felt like his dirty little secret.

He had to admit, he kind of was.

As if reading his thoughts Slade decided to take note of his presence. Slade’s gaze traveled over his body just to pierce him again. His feet made no sound on the tiled floor when he stepped near and he heard more than saw the paper being put together. With the simple uncrossing of his legs, Slade turned from non-approachable to demanding.

Dick's heartbeat struck strongly in his chest by the time he slid into Slade's lap. The fabric of his pants was rough against his inner thighs. His muscles jumped underneath his skin when strong hands brushed up his legs, halting at his waist to pull him closer.

"Good morning."

Slade's deep voice reverberated inside his chest and his breath was cut short by the gentle lingering kiss the mercenary bestowed upon his lips.

"G'morning," he returned the wish. His fingers curled around Slade’s forearms in a skittish attempt to pull him closer or push him away. Dick was not sure, even if his body thrummed with the developing swirl of need under his skin.

"How are you feeling?"

Dick wet his lips.

"Sore," he exhaled and Slade's good eye danced with mirth. Dick wanted to frown but a smile raised the corners of his lips no matter how unbitten.

"I figured."

His hands were grasped, Slade tugging them between their bodies. A kiss was placed on his forehead, Dick squeeze-blinking his eyes shut at the implications of such a gesture. Slade did not comment, simply proceeded to pull the cuffs off. They dropped to the ground but his wrists remained in Slade's grasp. Nervousness settled in his stomach, fluttering butterflies of the worst kind.

"D, open your eyes," was whispered, Slade's nose dragging against his and disappearing again.

The long strands of his new hairstyle were brushed out of his face, behind his ear as he let his eyes flutter open. Fingers caressed his pulse points and Dick took a controlled breath through his nose.

"David wants to be called D?" Dick asked, trying to aim for flirtatious banter but his voice came out rough.

"He is a very hip kid," Slade could not say those words with a straight face.

Dick let out a laugh, pulling his wrists out of the light hold to lay his arms around the broad shoulders. An arm slung over his hips.

"So is he pushy or are you?"

"I am but he thinks he is a tease," Slade commented and Dick raised an eyebrow, amusement still painting his lips.

"Is that so?"

Slade squeezed his ass, pulling the skin tight. A finger brushed over his smooth entrance, soothed the used ring of muscle. Dick could not wait to feel it plunge into his body.

"Yes," Slade exclaimed, two fingers slipping inside him and Dick shuddered, arching with the intrusion, "David is in over his head."

Slade watched his struggle, rubbing the loose muscle from the inside. At first, the fingers' movement were arrhythmic, their form barely croaked but then they pulled, pried him apart. His toes curled on the ground and his hands formed fists behind Slade’s back. The muscle throbbed, tender insides exposed to the cool air. Satisfied with his looseness the hands returned to his front, untying the belt. The fabric fell open.

“He tries to soar but he is a lot like Icarus.”

A big rough hand brushed from his stomach up to his chest, lingering there to feel the increased frequency of his breath. His nipple was hard, still sensitive to the touch and now, pushed against the strong palm, Dick had a hard time not to fall for the temptation to rub against it. Slade pushed the silk off his shoulder instead of torturing him longer. A kiss was settled there, others following and Dick took in a shaky breath, Slade licking up his neck, nipping his jaw and lightly biting into the skin under his ear. The beard was driving him crazy, harsh compared to every other sensation Slade bestowed upon his body. Even if he had not been as exposed, he could not have hidden his erection when his hips cant down for friction.

"Are you talking about him or me?" he whispered, mind spiraling into bliss.

He bucked when Slade's hand closed around his cock, larger and warmer than his own.

"Him."

Slade teased around the crown with a finger. His muscles jumped, mouth falling open and his hand clawed around the fistful of Slade's shirt. The breaths escaping him were sharp and short.

"I wouldn't call you Icarus."

It was spoken with a finality that perplexed Dick and his grip on Slade wavered, his surprise displayed.

He was not prepared when Slade rose, scrambling for a second to get a secure hold again. Slade settled him onto the desk, yet again amused and Dick stared at him with his mouth agape. The sound of the zip helped him out of his stupor and he looked at the familiar sight of an impressive bulge. His hands gripped the wood, hard. But he leaned back, legs spread open. His head lolled over the edge and Chicago stood before his eyes upside down.

He felt like an offering and wasn't that fitting?

"Why not?"

His voice cracked, skin growing warm. Slade sighed, though it sounded more like a moan and he closed his eyes, could hear the faint sound of a lubed cock when he drowned out the traffic underneath them.

Slade brushed the warm excess lube off against his twitching hole. Hands grasped the undersides of his thighs and raised them. The bare thick cock touched the rim of his hole and Dick's hands tightened around the edge of the table.

"The sun can't burn the sun."

Dick's eyes flew open again and his breath caught in his throat when Slade pushed into him, the motion slow but steady.

"Slade," he gasped, the extensive stretch of last night made the intrusion easier but his sore muscles still protested. His body twitched around Slade and Dick felt breathless at the familiar feeling of fullness.

"Yes?"

"Just," he breathed out, had no idea why he needed so much courage to say a few words, "Just be gentle."

His skin was caressed with circular motions and his shaking legs relaxed into the hold.

"I will." The mirth was back but his words still sounded genuine. "Tell me if you feel any pain."

Dick nodded, relaxing around him with the help of the reassuring touch.

Slade set a slow gentle pace, the sweet torture eliciting languid moans from his open lips. He met the thrusts after a few moments of bliss, moving his hips in the same slow motion. His arms strained to keep his body a little off the table to watch the proud length disappear between his legs. A wave of arousal clutched him. No wonder Slade liked to take him from behind.

"T' is how you fuck David?" he breathed, all but slurred, still transfixed by the image, "slow and gentle?"

He looked up at Slade when he got no answer and lost himself in the captivating eye. His cock was hot against his stomach, twitching to the stimulation. Spurred by his words or maybe his already wrecked image Slade leaned over him, biting his throat. He let his head fall back, arms shaking under his weight. Slade tugged him nearer by his legs, fingertips digging into his thighs. His breath hitched at the jolt, cock grinding deeper. Dick could feel the rough fabric of the pants against his skin.

"Settle back, Dick."

The voice was firm, not quite demanding but not asking either. Dick did how he was told.

A whimper escaped him when a mouth trailed over his décolleté to his untouched nipple. His body arched in anticipation before Slade’s breath reached him, the image enough for his body to remember how good it would feel. His moans turned higher and more breathy with every playful flick of a tongue and every hard suck. A hint of teeth made him keen while the sensation of Slade’s beard was a constant of soft and rough brushes across his chest. Slade steadied himself with one hand, the other caressed his side, detouring towards his spine to encourage the arch of his back.

Slade turned to the other side, closing his mouth around the sensitive nub. Blunt nails scraped up his back, making him twist. His palm pressed against his mouth to silence the moan threatening to escape him. Lips pressed closed around the hard nub. A muffled cry escaped Dick when Slade yanked.

"You're still feeling last night," Slade murmured, around the sensitive flesh, grinding it with the pressure of his lips and teasing the front with the tip of his tongue until he was satisfied.

His right wrist was pinned to the table and fingertips dug into his thigh. A prickle of fear run down his back at the dangerous glint in the single eye, festering in his stomach and making his mouth run dry.

"And yet you still haven’t learned that I want to hear your voice."

His eyes widened when the next thrust was sharp, wood unyielding against his back. He was soon wreathing under him in a different way. His gasps turned jagged and his eyes closed, his free hand grasping for the edge of the table anew with every harsh jolt of his body.

He locked the words he wanted to scream in his throat, did not give Slade the satisfaction to vocalize what the man could reduce him to even though pre-cum was wetting his stomach and his lips were tender from his own teeth.

"You're so stubborn, Nightwing."

His heart stumbled at the growled name and his fingers slipped from the coffee cup instead of curling around sturdy wood. His arm tensed, shoulder too when he waited for the burn of hot coffee spilling over his hand but all he felt was warm wetness. The cup shattered on the ground.

Dick blinked his eyes open, chest rising rapidly and ass squeezing around the hard length at the sudden absence of motion. A sound escaped his throat that was confusion and plea at once.

Slade squeezed his hand, the warm liquid dripping down into the mess of shards.

A long breath escaped him, the tension easing off his body. Somehow the consideration made the situation hotter than it had been before. Their lips brushed together, Dick's single effort not enough to properly lock them while Slade hovered over him. His attempt did not remain futile for long, Slade catching him in a kiss full of teeth. The powerful hips ground into him and Dick let out a grunt, toes curling. Slade huffed.

The thrusts grew longer and more powerful, gathering the speed they had lost.

His breath was labored, stuck like small puffs of clouds to his wet lips and hitched as soon as Slade changed the angle of his thrusts. As if the warmth gathering in his back was not enough to make him light-headed, Slade grasped his cock with a wet slippery hand. His legs twitched, a grown escaping him. His body was not sure how to move his hips. Slade teased the head of his cock and his body gripped Slade tightly, pre-cum simmering out of his slit.

The grip on his wrist grew harder and Dick tensed when he felt his bones grind together. Slade used the moment for a hard thrust into his body, hips pressed against his, keeping him down. His hand shot up, clawing the clothed shoulder.

"Sla _urghm_ - _ah_!"

Slade pounded him further into the unyielding wood, the overwhelming feeling of the intrusion overshadowing every other sensation. Then Slade faltered just to push deep inside him once more with a groan. His breath hitched, fingers twitching helplessly when Slade's grip around the fragile bone grew harder. The cock throbbed and Dick could only guess the bare minimum of lube Slade had used was the reason why he could feel the confusing feeling of fluid pushing inside of him. Dick had never felt something more intimate and it was a shame he could not enjoy the moment at night in the secureness of his mind.

The grip around his wrist eased and his mouth fell slack when Slade slipped out of him, the feeling of cum trickling out of his hole shooting blood to his face.

Slade decidedly stopped him from closing his legs.

The thick cock was replaced by skilled fingers in a second, pushing the slick cum back into his hole. A thumb pressed against his perineum as two fingers teased his prostate. His body rolled with the expert touch, warmth traveling up his spine.

He caught the calculating glint in the single eye but his arms failed to gather the strength of his muscles for longer than a moment, not to mention the dimmed but still painful throbbing of his wrist was forcing his right arm down even faster.

His ass relaxed and clenched around the fingers inside him. A harsh gasp turned into a moan when Slade teased the head of his cock and put light pressure between his balls. The different sensations grew stronger no matter the direction his hips twitched. His eyes rolled back, body arching off the table from the graduate stimulation. He begged that it was enough, screamed. His cock prickled, pulsed. His tongue curled. With a last cant of his hips and the feeling of Slade’s fingers dipping deeper into his sticky hole, he came. Cock twitching up into Slade’s hold, one, two, three times.

The aftershocks of his orgasm racked his body and Dick gathered his breath while looking at the clear sky. Finally, he sat up.

Cum trailed out of his hole, wet the table and his skin. His eyes grew wide at the sensation, their image reflected in Slade's intense stare.

His thighs glittered in the sun from the lube, cum and coffee Slade had wiped off against him and his stomach was covered in his own streaks of cum. Dick felt the shame return he had magically evaded all morning.

Slade did not let him turn away, the kiss on his lips unexpected but reassuring and the tension fell from his shoulders, the fear Slade might use the situation to humiliate him leaving him. When Slade pulled back, his hand stayed. Fingers rubbed his jaw as if he was a cat and his lips twitched, turning into a smirk. It was time to test out his new character a bit more. Slade had started their charade anyway.

"You could have joined me in the shower if you wanted to fuck me into a hard surface instead of a good old bed."

Slade was eerie silent for a moment, fingers still against his skin.

"I'll keep that in mind," his voice was firm, his smile sharp but amused.

Dick tilted his head, his jaw held in a loose grasp.

"Clean yourself," Slade ordered, relieving the grip, "Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes and your new clothes should arrive as well."

His gaze dropped to the ceramic shard covered floor and he hummed, his body still caught in the lethargic aftermath of his orgasm. Before he could decide on how to best avoid bleeding feet, Slade had manhandled him into his arms bridal style.

There was no hiding the shock.

"You looked a little lost there, Kitten."

His mouth hung open and Slade chuckled. His feet only touched the ground again when Slade had carried him all the way to the bathroom door. With a last kiss planted on his temple, Slade left.

He was going to die before the contract was over if this was Slade Wilson interacting with David Finlay as if they would marry in a year.

Returning out of the bath a few minutes later did not lessen the feeling. Slade was waiting for him, the oak table in front of him filled with fresh bread and endless varieties of fillings.

The door to the bedroom had been closed. Maybe it meant nothing but David would take it as a definite message with a smirk on his lips and a glint in his eyes. A towel was enough for him. His armor was his body. His power stemmed from his clear position in Slade’s life. He was unapologetic in a way Dick could not be toward the mercenary.

The wrist cuffs lay beside his plate, the only detail betraying the reality behind their situation. He snapped them back on. His wrist throbbed at the contact but the stability would do the injury more good than harm.

"David doesn't like sweets in the morning," he said when his gaze moved over the table, "Health is important to him. He starts with a strong breakfast, eats light over the day."

"I'm going to tell the room service."

Dick snorted, one corner of his mouth pulling up.

"Room service, right."

He picked from the fruits and the yogurt, a healthier variant of his usual breakfast of milk-soaked-cereal, though that had changed since he could count on Wintergreen for breakfast just like he could on Alfred back in the day. Not to mention he had a lot more time now that he did not have to juggle both his vigilante life and working as a police officer.

"Where are we even going?" he asked after the first bite, "I would love a bit of information."

A hum from Slade was all he got in the first moment, the man not looking up from his paper.

"Australia. We'll be staying in a hotel with our person of interest. A very fancy hotel as you can imagine but not as fancy as it could be. If people would only be among themselves, there would be no reason for us to be guests as well."

"And the mission?"

"I told you what you need to know."

"What does David need to know?"

Slade glanced up at him, a lazy but dangerous smile on his lips.

"Not a thing."

The conversation was over and Dick left it at that, digging into his breakfast. It would be a long day and a long flight. From experience he knew, even when flying first class, food was better enjoyed on the ground.

Slade stood when they were finished, gaze dropping down the length of his upper body before the icy stare met his eyes again. A trace of faint amusement made Dick tilt his head at the otherwise indefinable but Slade only turned to call the room service. With a sigh, Dick stood to return to the bedroom.

He eyed the clothes laid out for him critically before deciding he had no chance but to wear them anyway. With a sigh, he grabbed down to untie the towel just to hesitate when he felt air brush against his back. The steps should not have been too quiet for him to hear.

"We'll have to cover your scars."

Fingers traced over the scar diagonally crossing his back. The light touch tickled. Dick licked his lips.

"You did a pretty good job at covering one," Dick reminded and he tensed when he felt lips on his back, where he knew the scar stopped only short of his shoulder.

"Don't encourage me."

Warm breath touched his ear. A hand sneaked under his towel, touching the day-old bruise overlaying a year’s old scar.

"Would David not do that?" he asked, leaning back against the strong chest.

How humiliating this position had felt when they had started the year. Dick still knew how the cool metal had felt against his skin and now it was starting to feel normal - good - to end up wearing fewer clothes than Slade because underneath the armor Slade was warm and strong.

"David would do that and think himself in control of the situation," Slade admitted, trailing his hand up to part the towel and bunch it up under his grip. His heart vibrated in his chest, his lips stuck together.

"But David doesn't have a scar like this,” the hand traced the bruised burn mark, the towel pooling on the ground and the lips returned to the scar splashing across his back, "nor one that I caused."

He had thought he would die that day but Slade had left him alive.

It had been a stupid attempt to save a life without a suit protecting him. Slade had realized who he was in the last second. It had still ended in more than just grazed skin. He had been unconscious by the time the ambulance arrived. Bruce had been furious and Dick had understood his rage for once, even if he had not admitted it.

"Come on, in the bathroom with you."

Slade's warmth disappeared and Dick turned enough to watch him leave the room, breathing a sigh of relief before following with underwear. No reason to give Slade even more of a view at his interested member.

Dick settled on the bathtub while Slade plundered the closet. His wrist was pulsing under the wristband. He had not thought Slade had done much damage but he might have to reconsider.

Occupied with his indecision to tell Slade or leave the small injury out he nearly missed to catch the cream thrown at him. His delayed reaction was noted but not commented upon. He opened the white bottle, surprised when he tested it on his skin.

“I'll tan though.”

Slade looked at him as if he was an idiot, swiping up a bit of the cream and Dick’s eyes widened when the color turned a few nuances lighter again.

“How?” Dick’s surprise was promptly overthrown by curiosity, “What is this?”

“The creator decided to call it chameleon.”

“How inventive... Was it Squirrel?” Dick asked and could not help the smile pulling on his lips when he thought about the inventor.

“I’ll help you with the ones on your back,” Slade stated, ignoring the question but not denying his assumption either.

He massaged the cream into the burn mark on his thigh, mindful of the impressive bruise covering the inner edge but even the bluish spot was covered smoothly and Dick was left in wonderment for a moment, fingers tracing over the damaged skin. It even felt natural.

"He is a genius," Dick mumbled and he could say that, knew a lot of people who fell into the category. He could hardly imagine how a conversation between Lucius and Squirrel would look like. Dick chuckled to himself, taking care of the next white mark on his skin.

"And he is so sweet."

"And he has a girlfriend."

Dick halted, finger floating over the scar and he raised his gaze back up to Slade.

"What did you just say?"

"He has a girlfriend."

Dick parted his lips, closing them again.

"I wasn't," he began just to stop again because there was no way Slade could have interpreted this as flirting or rhapsodizing. Even if he had, why would Slade care?

"Scared your allies might like me more?" Dick asked with a grin and Slade chuckled.

"My allies would eat you alive, kid. Now hurry up."

The minutes passed in silence until Dick was finished with the scars he could reach and he leaned back with a sigh, watching Slade work on his face. It took Dick a moment before he understood the intention. Even then he was not quite prepared for the icy pools. His gaze had lost nothing of its intensity even if it was a difference. The fake eye looked just as real as the other, the respect enforcing image of a fatal wound replaced by otherworldly looking eyes which could cut like steel.

"What are your pet names for David?" he asked as he followed the gestured command to get onto the swivel chair and Slade stepped behind him. Dick sat straighter in a moment.

"What should they be?"

Dick smacked his lips together, fingers unsurely trying to curl around the collar. It ended in an awkward rub against his throat instead.

"D and Kitten aren't that bad, I guess."

"So you trust my judgment?" Slade asked, applying the cream to the highest point of the long scar.

"Sometimes," he mocked and Slade sighed, steadying him with a hand on his opposite shoulder.

“What about yours? Do I get to call you old man?” Dick asked jokingly and regretted it as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

“I assumed you’d be more creative.”

Dick had assumed so as well but every nickname that came to his mind refused to correlate with both his and David’s view of Slade.

“I am. Where is the surprise if I tell you now?” Dick asked with a smirk the mercenary could not see. His endearments would be different compared to Slade’s anyway. He had no reason to comfort Slade if the man was in control anyway and he had no chance to lighten the mood by taking the pressure of expectations from Slade’s shoulders. No matter what he chose, Slade would never let those names turn meaningful. He could not splinter through Slade’s armor like the mercenary could through his.

"Are you doing better?"

Dick swallowed and tried to shake the thoughts off.

"Taking to the rooftops helped."

Slade let the lie slip and Dick took a deep breath.

"I won't just forget it happened."

"I know."

Dick huffed, broken smile clinging to his lips. Slade checked the scar with a downward brush.

“How does David feel about my occupation?”

"He has no qualms with killing but he thinks you still work with the government," Dick explained slowly, gaze locked on a very uninteresting tile to concentrate on anything else but the thumb caressing his hip.

"He," Dick wet his lips, "He has a warped perspective of you being like one of the misunderstood action heroes in movies, keeps on bothering you to watch The Mechanic."

Slade hummed and Dick swallowed when his chin was raised by a guiding hand. His mouth moved on, his hand steadying his body when the chair swiveled, toes not touching the ground, his stomach dropped when his hand touched Slade's.

"He has not come into contact with heavy violence in his family but got desensitized through the violence on the streets. Media made him believe violence equals power."

"And he is attracted to power?"

"Very," Dick answered, feeling the truth of that statement sink into his skin and he closed his eyes when lips met his, hairs rising on his arms. It was not heated. It was a silent statement, a promise that Slade would take control, that he had it and that he would always get it back. Dick pretended it was David getting affected.

Slade pulled back; still close enough to capture him in a kiss again. A strand of hair was brushed out of his face.

“Seeing you with brown hair," Slade begun and then stopped for a moment too long, "It’s a bit strange I have to admit.”

"You with two eyes is worse," he let the words bubble out, his snark coming naturally even in such a situation, even though he could not look away from the glacier eyes Slade's passports dared to call blue.

Slade laughed, letting him go and cleaning his hands from the cream. Dick thanked the gods, he was sure another make-out session would have made him confess a few more things he would have to blame on David.

"Concerning future missions," Slade placed the cream back, "From now on you'll be responsible for the firearms."

Dick stared at him.

"You handle them regularly since you decided to become a cop and you did good work with the gun yesterday."

Dick opened his mouth and closed it again, anger spiking.

"You can't be serious."

Slade raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't think you would have a problem. You take your gun home, don't you?"

"Yeah, well...," Dick pressed his lips together, "The police aren’t my enemy. And guns are neither."

Slade tilted his head, raising an eyebrow.

“Then cleaning them should not be a problem.”

“I won’t, Slade. I won’t make killing even easier for you.”

"A police officer kills as well, Dick. For money even. Not to mention police violence is at a height in the whole country."

Dick grit his teeth. He knew his self-indulgence would come to bit him back.

"I joined the police because something had to be done. If I can save a life just because I was there, then that's enough," he said with force but he knew he would not get through to Slade with sharp words so he stopped for a moment before beginning a new, "have you ever dreamed about making the world better?"

"No."

Dick sighed. Of course.

Slade leaned back against the closet, arms crossing in front of him.

“I was too angry at the world to realize I could change it.”

Dick looked up at him in surprise.

“What I saw at home, in my hometown and then on the battlefield convinced me it was better to use the world to my advantage. I decided to use what it gives me, the good and the bad, instead of trying to save it."

When Slade spoke his anger did not simmer through. Dick knew so many people filled with anger, was one of them on his bad days but not even Bruce spoke with such exhaustion about the experiences he had been through.

"Is that the reason you are trying to be a good parent to Rose? Because no one tried with you?"

Slade chuckled, "That's what you would get from my words."

"Slade."

"I'm not going to answer you," Slade’s tone brooked no arguments, "But you are right, I did think about changing the world. When I was fresh in the army and met Lilian, I was convinced I could help change her home for the better and after marrying Adeline, I felt invincible for the spur of a moment."

And there it was a glimpse of white-hot pain in guarded sharp eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter won't be published as fast as this one. My goal is to update at the beginning of March.   
> Because I could not enter university this year, I'll travel through New Zealand instead for at least three months.   
> It will hopefully improve my English, which means this story can only get better.


	29. Sun Bathing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not march, I know and I keep telling myself not to promise you guys deadlines I can't hold but they at least help me get it done somehow.  
> I'm not home yet so changing the format was a pain... as well as finding the time to look this over...
> 
> Thank you for all the comments, you guys are amazing. :)  
> I hope you enjoy!

The water cooled his sun heated body, muscles relaxing while he drifted with the waves, eyes closed against the rays that tickled his nose. The sounds surrounding him turned into white noise and for a moment he let himself forget where he was and why he was here.

Since their departure from Chicago the illusion of a romantic relationship had been woven so tight that Dick had felt like suffocating under his own skin. Sharing the gossip of tabloids with Slade and being quieted by soft kisses had been easy, a playful charade. Maybe a bit too real. The flight attendants had glanced at them more than once with an amused smile or a pejorative one. But hours of lighthearted flirting had formed the bubble of quiet delight into pure tension between them. Frustration and confusion mixing with the same desire that had laced his mind like sugar coating for days now.

The charade had not lasted once they had reached their suite.

Where as Slade had cared enough in Chicago to take pleasure in seeing him pleased, his purpose here was to be shown off like raw meet to hungry wolfs. The proceeding was normal for such missions, Slade more a handler hiding behind him to do his actual job.

He had lain awake for the better part of the night when Slade had met with one of his contacts. Physical contact had turned into reassurance. The feeling of a strong chest pressed against his back or the sound of a heartbeat ringing in his ear had been a constant for more nights than Dick cared to count.

The blue water swallowed his form and the cold broke the thoughts spiraling in his brain, a shiver running through his body and waking ever nerve to fight against the weight keeping him unmoving. He felt lighter with ever bubble escaping his mouth.

The pool was nice, the whole hotel, really. They fit right in. No one even glanced at Slade.

Dick emerged again, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs. Water cascaded down his shoulders, down his chest and further still. Some people glanced up at him. Some people assessed his form from the distance with a thoughtful look.

His hand twitched. 

Bruce had gathered those looks every time they had stayed in a hotel and Dick nearly expected his guardian to walk beside him, tiny hand in a big reassuring one.  
Instead he met their eyes with a curl of his lips and a challenging look. David needed to be a bit self-centered, needed to know his weapons.

His wet body hit the soft sun lounger and he brushed the long strands out of his face. Jet lag was troubling him in addition to all his other problems and having an off day had long since started to grate on his nerves instead of calming him down. He had promised Barbara to talk about it with Dinah but he had never gone to one of her sessions.

His muscles tensed when he caught upon the subtle changes of his surroundings - a shadow falling over him and the difference of the airflow he would never consciously be able to interpret. 

He opened his eyes slowly. Slade was dressed in a suit, the display of the phone on his thigh dimming and then turning black.

They watched each other in silence and soon Dick felt the pressure in his chest rise again. He felt the childish urge to scream into his pillow or get a right hook directly into Slade's face. 

Slade in a suit was a dangerous sight. Slade with two eyes tilted his reality. But even though Nightwing knew how dangerous Deathstroke was, Dick - and David - wanted to sink into the feeling of security Slade granted him with a kiss he was not able to initiate.

"You look better."

"I feel better."

Slade hummed and his heart rate picked up when two fingers pressed against his chin. Lips touched the corner of his mouth in a feather light kiss. It was fake, fake, fake.

"Our target looked at you when you walked out of the water."

The words were a murmur against his skin, thumb caressing circles against his neck.

"For how long have you been back?"

The silence was answer enough while Slade's warm breath brushed against his skin.

"Our target is the blond woman at the bar. Your age. I want you to speak with her, flirt with her. Try to charm her so she wants to see you again."

Dick did not turn to look behind him and Slade did not linger this time, pulling back far enough to look down at him.

"Why?" he asked, voice smooth but he hardened his words in an instant, "Tell me why."

Slade was not faced by his demand. Even if Dick could be as fearsome and demanding as Bruce, he held no power over Deathstroke and out here he could hardly push him with the weapons he held.

He breathed out of his nose in frustration, blue eyes sharp as he narrowed them at him. Slade tilted his head, granting him victory through whispered words.

"I'm going to threaten her aunt."

The sentence was a multitude of languages with a structure of another and his brain raked through every language he knew to understand the simple phrase.

"I'm not going to hurt her."

His voice was unwavering, the words following the chaotic choice of languages Slade had chosen to converse with. It was kind of fun and strangely useful.

"I'm not asking that of you."

"I'm not going to let you hurt her either," he pressed further, daring Slade to break the promise he had made two days prior.

"It won't come to that if you do your job."

Dick searched his eyes for an emotion he could place but it was impossible to look behind the walls Slade could raise so well.

"Get us some drinks."

A frown pulled his lips down but in the end he stood with a smile plastered back on his face. Slade's gaze burned into his back and his muscles jumped under his skin, his instincts telling him to look back even though he was save from Slade if nothing (if no one) else. 

He placed the room card onto the counter, ordering a Pina Colada for himself and after short contemplation a Bloody Mary for Slade. Messing with lethal assassins was still one of his favourite activities.

Casually leaning against the bar he looked back. Slade was nowhere in sight and he relaxed, shoulders falling.

The woman glanced up at him from her phone and he smiled at her, hair falling into his face when he tilted his head in interest. "Is the Caipirinha good?"

"Considering we are in a renowned resort I would guess so, yes."

He winced. Either she was not here to make friends or there had been enough people falling over each other to speak to her. He kind of hoped to mess up the conversation but he knew the repercussions would be bad, unpredictably so.

His gaze flickered back to the sun lounge only to find the place still abandoned. Slade was probably changing into something more fitting.

His eyes met her green ones again, when he realized she was watching.

"You had a good form when you sprang."

He blinked, a small smile blooming on his lips.

"Thanks."

The drinks were placed beside him and his gaze dropped down to the empty glass in front of her.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

For a moment the skepticism stayed but then she huffed, rolling her eyes and his smile brightened.

"Sure, handsome."

He told the bartender to make another Caipirinha and held his hand out.

"David, nice to meet you."

She took his hand, grip strong but hands soft.

"Rita, if you are a decent human being then I think it is nice to meet you as well."

"Fair enough," he responded in amusement. He had met more than enough exhausting and down right creepy people on these trips. "I'm not keeping you from the date of your life time, am I?"

She snorted.

"Oh no I," she faltered but whatever she saw in his eyes reassured her, "I'm here with my aunt. Though as you can see, she isn't here."

He looked at her in sympathy, knew how it felt to be stood up by family because of business partners or the occasional eye candy. The Caipirhina was placed in front of her and they raised their respective drinks. The ice of the Bloody Mary was already dwindling.

"Cheers," she said and Dick repeated, humming at the cold taste.

"Was she waiting for the date of her life-time?"

Her eyesbulged out comically as she let go of the straw, splitting grin on her face.

"Not the the date of her life-time but you know," she said with a flourish.

"A cougar, eh?"

"What? No!"

"Wanted to take him for yourself then?"

Her mouth opened and fell shut again. She looked away as if to think.

"Maybe."

He laughed.

"And your prince charming?" she asked after sobering up, "Won't he care that you drink with me?"

He shrugged.

"He doesn't care about what I do as long as I behave in front of the right people."

She hummed, eyeing him.

"And what exactly do you want to do?"

Dick smiled, leaning back against the bar: "In all honesty, I would love to hang out with someone my age. I'm on vacation and I have no desire to play eye-candy for 24 hours straight, so that men who are totally not gay - how could they be - can ogle me and talk trash behind my back. Woman are more upfront about it, though if that is better or worse is everyone's guess."

Rita winced in sympathy.

"I'm sure you have had similar experiences," he trailed off, "I'm not a professional diver or surfer but I know my way around. If you are interested we could meet up tomorrow or the day after?"

"That sounds great," she said, smiling.

"I'm glad you like the idea of spending time with me."

She laughed.

"Now don't get ahead of yourself, we'll see how tomorrow goes."

"I'm notgoing to make you regret it, pinky-swear," he held out his finger and she giggled, rolling her eyes but they still swore on it.

"Now let me tell you how my first surfing experience went..."

They fell into quiet conversation, watching the other guests and enjoying when a group of rich kids their age took each other on in a water fight. They would get so much bad press, their parents would be furious.

Slade returned too soon and Dick picked up the drinks, having ordered a second Bloody Mary.

"David?"

He turned with a raised eyebrow, smothering his grin when he realized she had stared at his ass.

"Room 204. Ten o'clock tomorrow. Sounds good?"

"You bet, Rita."

Slade looked at the red fluid with a deadpan expression, when Dick returned to the lounge.

"Very funny."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You know exactly what I mean, Brat."

Slade shot back before a cold glint settled in his eyes.

"How did it go?

"I'll meet her tomorrow at 10, we'll go to the beach."

"Will you?"

Dick tensed at the tone, spine straightening like a cobra ready to strike.

"You didn't tell me what you wanted me to do, Slade," he hissed. "Don't be such an--"

Slade muffled his words with a kiss, hand in his hair and for a second he was so surprised that he could do no more than let his hand twitch uselessly between them. Teeth scraping over his bottom lip made him twist out of the grip with glowering eyes but Slade beat him to it before he could snap again.

"You can show me bravado all day long but hide it better when we are out here, understood?"

Dick swallowed at the sharp words and sharper eyes staring him down.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Slade. I understand," he ground out, eyes focusing on a point beside Slade's head.

The grip around his hair tightened for a moment, the white of Slade's teeth showing but the man calmed himself.

"Then act like it. This isn't your first undercover job."

The sharpness was gone, replaced by an unwavering deep tone. Dick tilted his head, mimicking a nod and Slade let go of him. He fell back onto the lounge with an arm behind his head, leaving enough place for Slade.

Sunscreen hit his chest with an uncomfortable smack and Dick tensed, teeth grinding together at the petty attempt to get a rise out of him.

"I can't get cancer, you can."

Dick opened his mouth and then closed it again, knowing he would sound like a petulant child if he told Slade that he had applied sunscreen before going for his swim.  
"You still get sunburn."

Slade's lip twitched upwards.

"Please, my healing factor can deal with three degree burns in a couple of seconds."

"Child's play, hmm?" Dick asked, moving into a sitting position again to do his duty. Slade was right after all, melanin would not help him against the scalding sun of Australia.

"If I bring you back with cancer they'll accuse me of testing a serum on you or something equally as ridiculous," Slade added and Dick felt his lips twitch despite himself, massaging the cream into his skin. A lot less eyes were on him when he was in the shade and beside Slade but he still made a bit of a show out of the ordeal. David would do that just to flaunt, knowing he was untouchable.

"You are not going to cream my back for me?"

"No. I'd rather like to see you make a fool out of yourself."

Dick laughed airily. If there was one thing he would not need down at the pool, then Slade's hands all over him.

He flopped back down when he was done, curling up beside Slade. Flecks of sun danced across the pages off the Chinese book Slade had chosen to read while sipping on his cocktail.

"You are enjoying this."

"Why wouldn't I?"

Dick hummed, his head cushioned on Slade's shoulder.

"Rose would love being here."

Slade turned a page, fingers dragging along the page.

"It's not as if I never thought about it."

"But?" he pushed for an elaboration, hand curling around the hard biceps just to catch a glimpse of the writing.

"She has to be able to defend herself first."

"Slade," his voice vibrated with a tint of disapproval, eyes barely narrowing.

"She isn't ready," Slade replied in a clipped tone and Dick rolled over just enough to look him in the eye comfortably, "not yet."

"Or maybe," Dick intoned, innocently looking up from under his eye lashes, "You are not ready?"

Slade was not impressed by the question.  Dick cocked an eyebrow and pulled himself up, grip growing stronger around the muscular arm to whisper the next words into his ear.

"You are just fooling yourself, Slade. Rose could be out here with you instead of holed up in a house she sees every day. You are scared she will get out of your control the second she sees the world."

A handsnaked up his back, fingers winding around the brown hair and tugging. Lightly.

"Dick."

"Oh? Did I saysomething you didn't like?"

The sharp amusement was less Nightwing and more Deathstroke, more David and less Dick.

"Calling me a dick isn't nice."

Slade chuckled, hand lowering to his back and lips pressing to his.

"I'm not nice."

Nails left red welts over his back, his body nearly arching with the burn. His breath clogged in his throat, unable to escape when tiny alarm bells begun to chime. They were more intoxicating than urging him to flee. Bat or not, there were some things he could not control. The widening of his pupils, the blood rushing between his legs.

"You can go for a last swim if you want."

Dick curled his lips into a cocky smile that felt strained but he pushed through his own feelings, sure to present the playful persona David would have.

"And then you are going to show me how," Dick licked his lips, fingertips following the lines of Slade's veins to his wrist, "bad you can be?"

"I was of the impression that you know."

"Maybe I want you at your worst," the words left his lips as if hungry flames were licking at his tongue, he kept his jaw from clenching, held his gaze instead of averting it in shame. Because if he thought about it, he really wanted to see Slade at his worst, stripped of the masked layers.

He resolved the tension with a quick smile and a wink.

"Or maybe," he intoned, "you can just pretend to be nice for another night."

He turned out of his grasp and brushed his hair back. His eyes stole a glance at the bar but Rita was gone.

"Join me?" he asked even though he was barely willing the erection away. This was a total disaster.

"Another time."

He lowered himself in the water, relinquishing in the coolness on his skin and diving into the water again. Bubbles escaped his nose and then he pushed himself forward, stretching in the water how he had not dared out of it. The burn in his muscles felt good, reminded him of the beach at the mountain after a long day, a race against Kaldur the atlantean always won. But that had not been the point of it anymore since years. Artemis and Megan had joined them when they had finally turned into a group of people worth calling a team.

He emerged out of the water on the otherside of the pool, breathing out calmly, his hands grasping the rim, feeling the slick tiles. He stared along the water, emptying his mind. Few enough people were in the pool for him to do a few rows in peace.

"The water isn't your enemy, you know."

He nearly jumped out of his skin and he could hear both Bruce and Slade scoff at the reaction.

"You don't know that, maybe it is?"

Rita let her feet sink into the water, then her legs but she did not look as if she would join him.

"After seeing you do that just now, I am certain I made the right choice to say yes."

"I was afraid you searched me out to decline my offer after all. I was a bit disappointed when I thought you had left."

She hummed, kicking her feet in the water. The edges of her summer dress grew wet and transparent.

"My aunt came back half an hour ago, so I was forced to stay."

"Did she run away again?"

"Nope, just drying off and searching for cute boys, so you better hide yourself."

He snorted and she looked up past him, rolling her eyes but could not contain the amused grin on her lips. Fondness was radiating off of her.

  
"I have to go, see you tomorrow."

With a quick goodbye they parted and he looked after her, taking in the older woman by her side, most of her face hidden by big sunglasses and a hat. There actually was a cute tanned man by her side.

He shook his head, diving into the water again to emerge on the other side of the pool. The long strands stuck to his face and Dick brushed them aside with a sigh. He hoped his hair would grow back well enough after the mission. Maybe Squirrel had invented something for it. He should try to get the guy on his side, at least for the products.

He grasped the towel, drying his hair and his upperbody before settling onto the edge of the lounge. His presence was not acknowledged, the bluish eyes sticking to the pages. In a seconds decision he turned the strong jaw in his direction and his lips curled into a smile, thumb brushing along the rough beard.

Dick was not allowed to do this, Dick would never have tried but David was another matter. Their noses brushed together and Dick closed his eyes, felt their lips meet and Slade tilted his head barely to the side but enough so that the angle would have been perfect to deepen the kiss.

He pulled back just far enough to still feel his breath and Slade's amusement was reflected in his eyes. Engaging in the little play, Slade rose just enough to catch him in another kiss. Dick hated the tingling in his chest, the smile engaging his lips.

"We can continue this once we return to our suite," Slade breathed against his jaw.

Dick nodded, feeling the scruff of the beard against his cheek and a proud hand squeezing his thigh.

The thin bathrobes the hotel had given them were pulled over quickly and their bodies remained close but Dick did not grasp his hand and Slade did not pull him closer.

The naturestone shower was of unbelievable high class and Dick enjoyed the forest rain declared showerhead until steam surrounded him, fogging the glass wall.

"So, tell me more about Rita," echoed Slade's voice into the chamber and Dick could see a dark blob settle down onto the couch.

"And here I thought you would join me instead of asking questions," he teased and maybe he could have heard at least a huff from Slade had he been standing right beside him.

Turning the shower head off he took one of the grand woolen towels out and rubbed his skin dry.

"She's here with her aunt, likes caipi and bad jokes. Nothing you would find interesting. Nothing you would not already know."

He stepped out with a towel around his waist.

Slade sat on the coach, head tilted and arms spread out on the back of the couch, "What are your plans for tomorrow?"

Dick ignored the way the light eyes inspected his body, knowing they were searching for any visible scars and picked up the clothes Slade had lain out for him on the table. The white shirt and greyish pants accented his brown skin and his eyes as well, depending on who he would ask.

"So now you want to know?" Dick asked, cocking his head.

"Yes."

"Some activities at the beach like surfing and scuba diving to make her feel adventures."

Slade hummed, "And something could so easily happen during those activities, they are quite dangerous."

His stomach twisted at the contemplative tone.

"That percentage is severely lower with me by her side."

"Or higher," Slade explained as he stood, "It's not that late, let us make something to eat and then we can go survey the beach."

Dick watched Slade walk past him, had expected that they would simply go out to eat.

All kinds of fresh food greeted them in the kitchen and Dick huffed in amusement. Rose would have definitely enjoyed coming here for the holidays. Creating something new seemed to be her thing and if something edible was produced in the process, then that was even better.

They chose a fast but healthy dish and Dick began chopping up the vegetables while Slade prepared the salad. 

Finished with the chopping he looked up to give Slade more instructions just to find the man starring at his work with faintly narrowed eyes.

"What?"

Accusation rang in his voice. Dick was prepared to be judged for his cooking skills but Slade only stepped closer, turning his right hand firmly. The first few chops had made the dull pain return, urging him to cut with the other hand.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Dick wanted to give a biting remark but every reason was starting to diminish in the face of his own foolishness. Being in Slade's personal space had felt dangerous back in Chicago but the desire to be closer to Slade had not diminished one bit . At some point he had tried to tell himself, that the pain was a reminder of Slade's true nature but he forgot the pain too often and all he remembered when he felt it, was the pleasure surrounding it.

His gaze stayed locked to the stormy eyes. Their hardness was enquiring not fear inducing and all in all what he now associated with Slade's caring. A huff escaped him. The mission with Queen Bee should have pushed him away but instead it tied him closer to Slade with every moment they spent together.

"Just leave it," Dick told him in a resigned tone and he would have never gotten away with evasion in the beginning but now Slade gave him the choice, the right to remain silent.

It did not stop the mercenary from laying the knife back down and pulling him away from the food with a hand around his arm. Dick watched in interest when Slade picked up his phone and his brows rose when the damaged flesh was scanned. The pictures were send to Wintergreen as they were made.

"Squirrel?" 

Slade send him an indefinable look.

"No, Wintergreen."

"Huh."

Cooling creme was quickly and expertly applied to his skin before Slade bound a bandage around his wrist. Dick was sure the whole ordeal was overkill but he wisely kept his mouth shut until Slade had the audacity to take the knife from him before he could grasp it.

"I'm ambidextrous."

"I know."

Dick glared at him but begrudgingly stood guard over the frying feta and the cooking sweet potato.

"I never expected you to be a good cook," Slade admitted after finishing the last ingredients and  throwing them into the frying pan. 

"Why does everyone always say that?"

"Because you live on junkfood." 

Dick grumbled. Truthfully he would have liked to eat something greasy and fast after so many month but he had not really missed his junkfood either.

"I just don't like cooking alone. In the circus we were always this huge crowd and," Dick trailed off. It was a fond memory and watching hot water bubble to the surface, he felt overthrown by a sudden nostalgia he had not felt in years. 

Everyone had cooked. The main tent had bustled with people who knew what to do like a well oiled-machine. The humming of different tunes and the cluttering, laughter had been part of the everyday magic that was living on the road. His vision grew blurry, his chest arching. Slade met his eyes but did not say a thing.

The last time someone had cooked with him like this was Bruce. They had been alone, Alfred visiting family in Britain. He had been what? Eleven? They had written a letter to their parents in English lessons on the same day. He had ended up in tears and Bruce - the stupid idiot - had never cooked with him again. 

Jason had been the one to challenge him years later, not believing he could cook better than he... After Jason had died, Dick had never set foot into the manor's kitchen again.

Tim had always taken pleasure in reminding everyone that it was at least both of them who could not cook until Dick had woken him from one of his worst sleepdebrived unconsciousness with the smell of food. He lived for the times Tim visited him in Blüdhaven afterwards.

He blinked the blurriness away. He felt more and more like a big mess.

"Despite that Bruce and you have it easy. With Alfred or Wintergreen by my side I would be eating more healthy as well."

The silence was heavy around them. When was the last time he had even begun to tell someone about his family? Probably Tim. He needed to stop talking one of these days.

"It smells good."

Dick smiled and he realized with a start that he was embarrassed.

"Thanks," he mumbled, brushing strands of hair out of his face, "You aren't bad either."

Slade cocked his head, "I'm better with meat."

Dick laughed, "I get it, Hunter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I was getting a bit tired of the Dick-cannot-cook"-Trope, so I did something new. Dick's life before Batman will come up again in the next chapter, making everything a bit harder for the bird. 
> 
> They'll probably be no updates till July...

**Author's Note:**

> ****[In case of delays keep updated here on Tumblr](http://sladickffpersuasion.tumblr.com/)


End file.
